Midway through Kim Petras’ latest album Detour, there’s “Brutalist,” a song about buildings. “They took a knife to it, they took a bomb to it/They bulldozered it, they didn’t give a shit,” Petras sings, the defeat in her tone set against gleaming synths and pop-rock percussion. “It really breaks my heart, what they did to it/They really ruined it.”
She’s not just talking about concrete and beams, but flesh, blood, and bones. “Brutalist” sinks into the memories Petras holds of her father, an architect who used to drive her to psychiatry appointments as a kid. She compares her sadness around those buildings being dismantled to the way some people may have perceived her transition. “Again and again, didn’t come back a man,” she sings. “I guess I ruined it.” The 33-year-old hasn’t offered this level of personal insight on her past projects, which include her debut Feed the Beast and her would-have-been debut Problématique, an LP that leaked online before she properly released it as her second album.
Detour is a kind of debut itself. In the past few years, the foundation of Petras’ career began to crumble. Her creative partnership with Dr. Luke, which began a decade ago, often produced more scrutiny than it did smash hits. “Unholy,” her collaboration with Sam Smith, made her the first trans woman to win Best Pop Duo/Group Collaboration at the Grammy Awards in 2023, but the win was tainted by the fact that it is maybe one of the worst songs either artist has ever made. Then, earlier this year, Petras begged to be released from her major label contract with Republic Records, which she claimed endlessly delayed progress on Detour.
Rather than try to salvage a clearly failing framework, Petras bulldozered it. Detour builds her up again as an act you can depend on for dynamic, motivated, and clear-eyed pop hits.
Petras wastes no time arguing this case for herself. The opening three-track run of the album — the tone-setting “Detour” into the thudding standout “DTLA” into the MySpace-ready “I Like Ur Look” — creates a sense of excitement for the rest of the project. “This is the beginning of the end,” Petras sings on “Detour,” the title track. “Everything before is just pretend.”
Across Detour, Petras revitalizes her collaborative spirit with production from hyperpop duo Frost Children (the source of that early 2000s internet nostalgia sound); Margo XS, who most recently helmed Zara Larsson’s Midnight Sun; and Nightfeelings, the project from electronic producer Nick Weiss. “Bitch Ball Out” squeaks and skitters as Petras promises to put on a show you can’t turn away from. The song brings the album back into the green after “Jeep” and “Basketball,” decent records that sound slightly out of place here.
Detour finds its strength in Petras’ willingness to go off track and lean into less pristine pop than she might have in the past. “Check It” revels in how clunky it is, bouncing between narcotic one-liners (“Jesus died on the cross/Bless Him, bless Him, bless Him, bless Him”) and revved up electropop beats. It blends seamlessly into the industrialized “Polo.” The album finds tender moments in “Jeep” and “Korea,” as well as “Brutalist,” but never at the sacrifice of her usual raunchy inclinations.
“Freaky little débutante,” Petras sings on the closing track, “Freak It.” “I wanna see your face at my show.” By the end of Detour, you wouldn’t want to miss any show that brings these songs to life, anyway.
