Forever Is A Feeling by Lucy Dacus | Album Review

The fourth album from one-third of boygenius uses a subdued sound to explore more emotional subjects.

Raised in conservative Christian Virginia, singer/songwriter Lucy Dacus has had a wilder journey of self-discovery than most.

The daughter of musicians, songwriting and performing has been a consistent thread her whole life. She started writing religious praise songs and attending Vacation Bible School between school semesters. She even found herself developing a bit of a superiority complex around her piety, trying her hardest to spread the Good News and warn her friends off of sinful behavior.

But slowly, she realized many things about herself in her teen years. Experimenting with cannabis and exploring sexual urges, she’s distanced herself from religion in her adult life and come out as queer, with many of her songs discussing her personal sapphic yearning. She’s had music to work through these complicated feelings and beliefs, developing a highly personal style of indie rock songwriting.

Her debut record, No Burden, was initially released through a local label in Richmond, earning acclaim from fans. It also caught the attention of Matador Records, who signed her in 2016. Her second and third albums, Historian and Home Video, received similar praises and earned her some fans among fellow indie musicians. Mutual enjoyment connected Dacus with compatriots Julien Baker and Phoebe Bridgers, and they released a highly lauded EP under the name boygenius.

Coming off an incredibly successful and critically acclaimed EP and LP with boygenius, Dacus returns to speaking solely for herself, and she’s maybe more candid than ever before on her fourth album Forever Is A Feeling. She’s also sounding folksier than ever before, largely ditching electric guitars and heavy drum beats in favor of acoustic guitars and raw, unfiltered string accompaniments.

Dacus opens the LP with a sublime string intro, unconventional like modern classical music, yet always light, airy, and gorgeous. Named after the Greek muse Calliope, she emphasizes upfront how important a role lyrical storytelling will play in what’s to come. 

“Calliope Prelude” seamlessly flows into “Big Deal,” hitting the listener with an emotional cluster bomb right off the bat. Over wistful acoustic guitar and gentle drumming, Dacus paints a beautifully tragic picture of two friends with a deep, unrequited romantic connection. Her word choice is simple but so evocative, painting the image in my mind so vividly, and touching my heart with her sincerity:

We both know that it would never work

You've got your girl, you're gonna marry her

And I'll be watching in a pinstriped suit

Sincerely happy for the both of you

So what changеs, if anything?

Maybe everything can stay thе same

But if we never talk about it again

There's something I want you to understand

You're a big deal.

“Limerence” touches on the theme of wanting what you can’t have from a different angle. This time, Dacus sings of wanting to cheat on her partner, with the knowledge that doing so with detonate both their lives:

So bring on the parties, I wanna go dancing

My arm 'round the waist of a friendly acquaintance

Toeing the line of betraying your trust

Why do I feel alive when I'm behaving my worst?

Is there a differеnce between lying to you

If it feels just as bad as telling thе truth?

Musically, this track is a stoned dream sequence, slow and hazy, with a richly developed chord progression. The piano work in particular stuns me, embracing classical ornamentation techniques to heighten the beauty at every turn.

Further in, we get the country-tinged “Best Guess.” Here, Dacus puts into words things I inherently know are true, but have never thought about, like how the impermanence of our human forms lead to uncertainty of what our future might look like:

I love your body

I love your mind

They will change

So will mine

But you are

My best guess at the future

You are my best guess

If I were a gambling man, and I am

You'd be my best bet.

And then there’s “Come Out,” which easily contains one of Dacus’ most infectious melodies. Over ukulele, keys and harp, she paints beautifully odd pictures describing the intensity of her love for the subject:

I missed your call because I was in a board room

Full of old men guessin' what the kids are getting into

There was a cardboard cutout of a cowboy in the corner

Pointin' his gun in my face

I don't belong here, nobody does

Except maybe those old men collecting dust

Why am I not wherever you are?

The only thing stopping me from fully embracing this record is how quiet it sounds throughout. “Ankles” and “Talk” are by far the most lushly produced moments, and they max out at mezzo-forte. If you’re looking for something big and bombastic, this is not the album for you.

I also think the best songs show up at the beginning and end of the record. The three-song stretch in the middle from “Modigliani” to “For Keeps” just does nothing for me personally.

Regardless, Dacus continues to strike a unique chord as one of our generation’s most emotionally attuned singer-songwriters. Whether working solo or in a collaboration, her voice rings clearly, distinctly, and beautifully. She really is a big deal.

Production: 6/10

Lyrics: 9/10

Songwriting: 6/10

Overall: 7/10

Favorites: Big Deal, Limerence, Come Out, Best Guess

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Thank you for reading! What did you think of this album? Feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts and recommendations.