
@lucydacus
If the devil is truly in the details — as Lucy Dacus proclaims in her song “For Keeps” from her new album “Forever Is a Feeling” — then her lyrical genius is going to hell.
The 13-track album reflects on the push and pull of conflict that all too often drives couples apart until the relationship is no longer salvageable. “Forever Is a Feeling” explores many key questions of the complexities of romantic connection: when to call it quits, when to hold on and how to know if it is worth fighting for someone. At the center of the album, Dacus maintains a sense of tension by reflecting on the feeling of constant longing and the fear of impermanence.
Although the gentle tone of many tracks may not strike the same umph of rage and sorrow as her last studio album, “Historian,” “Forever Is a Feeling” itches the brain in a way only Dacus’s lulling voice can. Her detailed lyrical tableaus sway the listener between delight and devastation, keeping them in a constant and engaging place of musical limbo.
The tracklist kicks off with “Calliope Prelude,” a reference to the Ancient Greek muse of epic poetry who was said to inspire the work of the great writers of the era. The song transports the listener to a dream-like state with the ethereal-sounding violin taking the spotlight. Right as the violin winds down, the song seamlessly transitions into the steady drums and guitar of “Big Deal,” an exploration of romantic longing for the love of a friend while being aware that they need to be happy with someone else. Dacus expresses the bittersweetness of this fruitless yearning by describing the figure of affection as someone she could be with in another life: “I’ll be watching in a pinstripe suit / Not even wishing it was me and you.”
However, “Forever Is a Feeling” is also distinguished by its pure love songs, which primarily focus on the desire for a good relationship to last forever. These sweet, hopeful melodies are new territory for the usually mournful Dacus, but she handles them with the same delicate care and illuminating descriptive power of her usual work. “Ankles” details the small, sacred, everyday aspects of a relationship that make it special, from filling out the crossword puzzle together to asking how you slept. Dacus perfectly expresses the sentiment in the bridge, saying, “How lucky are we to have so much to lose.” However, some of these forays into newer and happier territory, such as “Most Wanted Man,” “Modigliani,” “Best Guess,” and others, risk being a bit blasé in their simplicity, especially in comparison with the more complex but sad songs on the album.
“Bullseye,” a collab with Irish singer Hozier, represents the album’s love song potential at its best, as the song strums at the listener’s heartstrings via the harmonies of Hozier’s smoky, soulful voice mixed with Dacus’s light but strong airs. Lyrics like “Holding each other so tight we got stuck” illustrate a realistic and grounded tale of love: a couple becomes codependent over time and finds themselves still longing for each other even once broken up.
“Limerence” is the most interesting and stylistically non-conforming song on the album, stripping Dacus’s sound down to its bare bones with a slow piano melody accompanying her lulling voice on the more bluesy tune. The singer laments the pain of having to end a relationship while still knowing the act will break both her heart and theirs. Dacus begs the question, “Is there a difference between lying to you / If it feels just as bad telling the truth?” “Limerence,” named for a psychological phenomenon of unwilling infatuation that removes all potential flaws of the person from one’s vision, causes an unavoidable ache in a listener’s chest and is undeniably one of the strongest and most visceral songs on the album.
A glimmer of angry Dacus returns from her “Historian” era for “Talk,” an internal dialogue of a relationship losing its last spark of passion. Dacus’s desperation comes through in anthemic drums, bass and electric guitar, as she expresses frustration and wonders aloud, “did I drink you to the last drop?” During the bridge, she reflects on the previous passion they felt for each other in the most constrained circumstances, now replaced with a sense of casual boredom in the everyday. “Why was our best sex in hotels / And our worst fights in their stairwells?”
Dacus ends the album on a note of hope with “Lost Time,” expressing the desperation of wanting to be with someone for the rest of their lives, while fearing all the time you’ve wasted apart. “Lost Time’s” bittersweet bridge seems to sum up the album’s themes to a tee and reminds the listener to hold on while they have something good.
In the end, Dacus doesn’t seem to have all the answers to love, lust, or life, but her musings make for a genuinely moving musical experience.