A band composed of Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker, “Boygenius” is a collaboration of some of the most lyrically sharp and sonically hypnotizing artists right now. If you have been looking for an album to be obsessed with for the coming sad girl summer, look no further than their latest album release, “The Record.”
However, to dub this as just another addition to the sad girl summer classics is to massively undercut the intensity and borderline literary genius of this project as a whole.
“The Record” is the supergroup’s debut studio album following the release of their self-titled EP “Boygenius” in 2018.
The three singles released in January — “$20,” “Emily I’m Sorry” and “True Blue” — gave a preview of what would come to be an entire modern, indie rock masterpiece, with incredible lyrics that rival the sort of prose in literature, each song more exciting than the last.
In “$20” Baker leads the trio as they take turns singing about self-destruction and running — away, out of gas, out of time and out of money — with a juxtaposition of beautiful and violent imagery. “Mama told me that it don’t run on wishes but that I should have fun … Pushing the flowers that come up into the front of a shotgun … So many hills to die on.”
“Emily I’m Sorry,” is a track primarily written by Bridgers, as evident by her signature folk-y sounding, acoustic sound with an electric guitar. The song is one of the best on “The Record” and is very similar to Bridgers’ fan-favorite solo song “Chinese Satellite.”
Keeping up with a theme present throughout the whole album, Bridgers leads the charge in singing about a sort of aimless and undefined feeling. This song tells the story through a place that describes the feeling, as the subject of the song is driving away from “where no one lives, pretty much just veterans.”
“Emily I’m Sorry” is a slow spiral that provides a sort of contagious sadness that only the best songs can provide. Seemingly about a combination of a relationship deteriorating and senseless feelings and emotional distance towards life as a whole as a consequence of it all, discussing the way life changes as you grow up.
“True Blue” takes this aimlessness to action and perfectly sets the tone for a spring or summertime album. A sort of antithesis of “Emily I’m Sorry,” in the single it is Dacus that is singing about loyal love — in the form of a friend, family, a partner or a place.
The fourth single, released in early March, off the album was “Not Strong Enough,” a song that returned to the themes of “Emily I’m Sorry” and “$20.” This is about being lost — once again — weak and literally not strong enough.
The vivaciousness in the imagery and cripplingly devastating lyrics contrast the happier track behind it as Bridgers, Dacus and Baker all take turns breaking out hearts, singing about what could — perhaps too simply — be described as anguish.
“I tried, I can’t … Stop staring at the ceiling fan and … Spinning out things that haven’t happened … Breathing in and out.”
Truly incredible songwriting is displayed here, with beautiful sentiments life. “Had a mind that keeps the other second guessing … Close my eyes and count … Always an angel, never a god.”
Despite the crushing lyrics, one could easily mistake this for a windows-down joyful and careless tune. I will definitely be pretending that is the case.
“Without You Without Them” is the song that opens “The Record,” and it is simply perfect.
A song that only features the harmony of the band’s voices with no backing instrumentals, it is a truly beautiful and elegant song about the people that we learn from. The traditions we develop from one another and the histories we all share. A truly touching song of sentimentality and storytelling.
“Speak to me … Until your history’s no mystery to me … Talk to me … Until the words run dry, we’ll see eye to eye … I want you to hear my story and be a part of it … Thank my father before me, his mother before him … Who would I be without you, without them?”
“Revolution 0” is for the Pharbz — the die-hard Phoebe Bridgers fans. A song that could have been on her debut album “Stranger in the Alps,” Bridgers sings of loneliness following a person exiting her life, and the space that they leave, insinuating that the space left behind has inspired more art out of her.
“Imaginary friend … You still live in my head … So I’ve been making music … Since you told me to do it.”
Bridgers sings again of this desolate exhaustion and a childlike imagination with simple yet incredibly hard-hitting lyrics.
“I used to think if I’d just close my eyes … I will disappear.”
“Letter To An Old Poet” is the final song on the album, completing the masterpiece and sure to leave you in a puddle of tears and devastation — what other way would you have it, listening to these artists?
The song is largely an allusion to the track “Me & My Dog” from their last EP.
“I want to be emaciated … I want to hear one song without thinking of you … I wish I was on a spaceship … Just me and my dog and an impossible view.”
In “Letter To An Old Poet,” in the same melody, Bridgers sings something else instead.
“I want to be happy, I’m ready … To walk into my room without looking for you … I’ll go up to the top of our building … And remember my dog when I see the full moon … I can’t feel it yet … But I am waiting.”
And just like that, Boygenius provides a quiet moment of introspection with the most gut-wrenching lyrics over the most excruciatingly beautiful melody, Boygenius leaves us with the rest of our lives to tearfully ponder, process and interpret this masterpiece. However, given the history of the artists and the feeling of their music, we had to know what we were getting into.
The entire experience of listening to this album might be best summed up in the lyrics of “Leonard Cohen,” the eighth track on “The Record.”
“Leonard Cohen once said … ‘There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in’ … And I am not an old man having an existential crisis … At a Buddhist monastery, writing horny poetry … But I agree.”
So do I, Boygenius. So do I.
