For most of her life, Arielle Kasnetz—the LA-based singer-songwriter known as Beatrix Kasnetz, lived inside the discipline of classical training: hours of vocal scales, piano pieces practiced until they became muscle memory, stories performed with precision. But the narratives she carried weren’t her own. The words, the feelings, the lives embedded in those compositions belonged to someone else—someone from another era. Beautiful, yes. Personal, no.
It wasn’t until the pandemic, confined to her bedroom with an acoustic guitar gifted a few birthdays earlier, that she began writing from the only place that mattered: herself. In that quiet, she stopped interpreting other people’s emotions and started naming her own.
That shift blooms fully on Beatrix’s sophomore album, We Swallowed The Sky, out April 24 via Nice Life. A sweeping orchestral indie rock/folk / chamber-pop project, the record finds Kasnetz reaching into the deepest recesses of memory—pulling out moments that still sting, still shimmer, still refuse to sit still.
Sonically, the album is striking and off-kilter in the best way: surprising melodic turns, boldly arranged instrumentals, and a restless emotional range that swings from hushed piano confessionals to loud, full-band blasts. It’s a record that doesn’t simply move—it lurches, spirals, and then lands with intent.
Lyrically, We Swallowed The Sky is tethered by one haunting thread: Kasnetz returning to a long-gone relationship and allowing its ghost to linger. That presence is embodied by the pedal steel, weaving between past, present, and future like a memory you can’t quite outrun—softening edges one moment, cutting straight through the next.
Where Kasnetz has often felt misunderstood, this album reads like a turning point: the most fully herself she has ever sounded, the most clearly she has ever stood in her own shape.
Ahead of the album, Beatrix has released the new single and video “Class Reunion,” a sharply detailed piece of storytelling that plays like a short film inside a fever dream. Kasnetz paints the scene with unnerving clarity: exes running into each other after ten years, every small humiliation and emotional aftershock rendered in close-up—no detail spared.
“Ten years later, they see each other at a class reunion,” she says. “He has never quite moved on and desperately wants to talk. There have been a handful of attempts to reconnect over the years, but they’ve always been shut down. He sips a gin and tonic in the corner, working up the nerve to say hello. The conversation is brief and awkward—he fumbles over his words, bragging about his work. He can feel his chance slipping away and starts to have a panic attack. Everyone is pointing and laughing in slow motion. He wakes up, and she’s gone. It wasn’t real—it was just a nightmare. But one thing is true—no one loves him like she did.”
The official video pushes that anxiety into something surreal—Twin Peaks meets The Office, staged in a sterile community center where normalcy feels slightly poisoned. And at the center of it all is Beatrix herself, staring straight into the camera with a steady, unsettling calm—holding the viewer captive the way certain memories do: quietly, completely, and without permission.
For more information on Beatrix, please visit:
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Photo by Rogue Bonaventura, courtesy of Big Hassle Media
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