Forever Really Is A Feeling
reviewing Lucy Dacus's new album
Either Lucy Dacus was on your list of favorite indie darlings in 2018 or she came into your consciousness through the supergroup Boygenius, which she formed alongside Julien Baker and Phoebe Bridgers to put out a self-titled EP in 2018. This project was beloved by early fans of the three artists but didn’t break into mainstream consciousness until the group reunited to release 2023’s full length album, The Record. By this time, Bridgers was a bonafide celebrity following her acclaimed 2020 album, Punisher, that broke her into the mainstream. Promotion for The Record drug Baker and Dacus further into the public eye on their year-long second stint in the band.
The newfound notoriety is a theme that subtly weaves through the album, deservedly. From making the rounds on all the major award shows, selling out bigger venues, and getting name checked on the Taylor Swift song, “The Tortured Poet’s Department,” Dacus has certainly had the world shift under her since 2021’s Home Video. I swear, she probably has all the best celeb stories having had a front row seat to some of my favorite celeb pairings of recent years.
Dacus is the first of “the boys” to release a solo project on the heels of The Record’s success. Only by a narrow margin, though, as Baker is set to release Send a Prayer My Way in 20 days. Fans are still waiting for word on Bridgers’s long awaited sophomore follow-up to Punisher, but the off-the-grid singer is keeping them guessing.
Dacus’s Forever Is A Feeling offers a strong start. It’s certainly more straightforward than her past work, fitting for her first record on mainstream Geffen Records. She toys with pop leaning sensibilities, making this certainly her most accessible record yet with earworms like “Ankles,” the leads single, and a delicious chorus melody on “Most Wanted Man.” Other early singles like “Best Guess” and “Limerence” are aided by the context of the entirety of the album, and the Hozier duet “Bullseye” is an immediate winner.
There’s fantastic writing across the record, unsurprising for a writer as skilled as Dacus. The album chronicles a general arc of falling for someone and not being sure if your infatuation will be reciprocated. There’s also songs about falling out of love that still fit companionably within the track listing. It’s thoroughly laced with references to her newfound notoriety (“In the morning at the Ritz/$700 room still drinking from the Keurig/We’re soaking up luxuries on someone else’s dime/Living the dream before we fully pass our prime”), as well as that of her object of affection. She recounts this love interest being in a hotel in Singapore and asking her what tomorrow’s like. Similarly, there are frequent references to this person’s “shows” across multiple songs.
Dacus revealed that at least one love interest rendered on this album is her fellow bandmate, Julien Baker. This lends extra credence to the hesitation that’s laced in the bubbling joy of a new relationship. There is something to be lost if the relationship doesn’t pan out. The album is littered with excellent turns of phrase (“wish I could come to the show, but I understand / can’t just walk in like any other fan” “Man, it’s hard to quit when you’re ahead / lettin’ the best laid plans turn into empty threats” “If the devil’s in the details, then God is in the gap in your teeth”) as well as mini scenes encapsulated in a single verse.
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 pinstripe suit/Sincerely happy for both of you
“Loving father, friend, and son”/Printed backwards on my shoulder blade/From leaning back on a plaque on a bench/I carry David’s name until it fades/Why does it feel significant?/Why do I have to tell you about it?
When you told me ‘bout your new man it wasn’t news/’Cause you’ve got all these mannerisms that you never do/Like rolling your eyes and laughing real dry/Like you were trying him on for size/And even if it doesn’t fit, you’ll wear it/’Cause if it’s what you want you’re gonna get it
I didn’t mean to start/Talking in past tense/I guess I don’t know what to think/’Til I start talking
The album is strong overall with standout tracks from the first listen including “Modigliani",” “Bullseye,” “Talk,” and “Most Wanted Man.” While there’s nothing truly upbeat, there’s a good mix of bouncier mid-tempo tracks like “Best Guess” and “Ankles” to contrast with the ballads. There are songs that play with more unique and ear grabbing production within the sonic landscape of Forever Is A Feeling while, unfortunately, some tracks like “Limerence,” “Forever Is A Feeling,” and “Lost Time” fall into a pit of hazy sameness with cloudy production that sometimes obscures Dacus’s writing. Additionally, while clearly an artistic choice, opening album with instrumental “Calliope Prelude” doesn’t exactly suck the reader into the full record, and I don’t think it adds anything to the overall mood or big picture impression that constitutes its inclusion like other pre-album interludes I’ve seen. Sometimes, they’re cool as a full artistic statement and fall by the wayside on repeat listens. This just feels like bloat.
On Forever Is A Feeling, Dacus gives the impression of delivering her most edited self, straying from rambling “Night Shift” and wordy songs like “Brando.” A part of me misses the all-in commitment to story her earlier work displayed, but this album is simply aiming to do fundamentally different things and largely succeeding. It’s an easy transition for fans of The Record who haven’t moved into the solo projects yet coming in at an approachable thirteen songs and just shy of forty-five minutes. I came away from this album with a few new favorites that give me the same spine tingle as “Ankles” delivered all those months ago and an album that is thoroughly listenable as a full body of work. More than anything, Forever Is A Feeling feels like it succeeds on her own terms. Reception largely comes down to how close to original form Dacus's fans want her to stay.