There’s a new name etching a space in the dimly lit halls of dark pop. Ruby Blaire Pops through the intro of her debut single, “Poison,” and she doesn’t crawl onto the soundscape. Instead, she slinks in. Surrounded by soundscapes and seething in alt-R&B mystique.
“Poison” is a seduction, as haunting as it is hypnotic. Ruby Blaire invites us into a toxic love, the kind that you’re aware won’t do you good but you can’t stay away from. Her voice, smooth and expertly tainted with threat, seems to float above a sinister, high-octane bassline. It’s a melody that doesn’t just sound fantastic. It seems to be something you’ve seen, heard, and experienced while the lights were down low and it was far past midnight. Style-wise, Blaire excites a narrow gap between Billie EIlish’s intimacy and Banks’ high-voltage magnetism. It’s not a simulation. It’s initiation. With “Poison,” she forges her signature, concise yet thorough, creepy yet tantalizing. The vibe is palpable, with each beat unfolding as if in slow motion of a noir movie.
It’s not the polished production or category-defying dexterity that sets “Poison” apart, it’s the honest emotion coated in velvet vocals. Blaire portrays the distressing internal struggle between appetite and self-preservation. The lyrics don’t tell, they reveal. And her power lies in that openness. After just one monitor, Ruby Blaire shows the heart of her tale. “Poison” isn’t simply a debut, it’s a promise. It tells you that this performer isn’t interested in following the crowd. She wants us to see her globe, and she’s urging us to the dimmer shadows of it.