Album Review: Lucy Dacus - Forever Is A Feeling

Despite being a bit less effective than her previous output, the softness still embraces its aching depth. ‘Forever Is A Feeling’ is Lucy Dacus breaking away and getting closer, where the layered nuance and yearning passion are accompanied by tender melodies at the core.

There is an observation about how going to a more comfortable, softer lane becomes a frustrating decline to artists who are known for gripping your emotions through stark rock instrumentation and incise lyrical depth, because in reality, they do end up finding a comfortable spot in their lives at some point. Growing a bit older also means that they will end up becoming more settled, yet their overall aim of becoming more gentle may or may not become permanent, especially when tensions are lying underneath all that composed direction. This might mean that such softness may dull down what made that artist so compelling from the start, but it is important to take in what is currently being sung and felt, because there is still worth looking into art that is settled but shows more dimensions once you look deeper into it.

All of this is being stated because after Lucy Dacus released her 2021 album, ‘Home Video’, her follow-up record, ‘Forever Is A Feeling’, is a switch-up from her usual tones. Less embrace of those muscular rock flourishes, more tender singer-songwriter and indie folk tones. An emphasis on softness that might have lent more divisive perspectives, even if Lucy Dacus continues to sing her heart out despite it all. A presence that teeters between really screaming her passion out and acknowledging the back-and-forth situations around her.

This all slips through Blake Mill, who knows how to emphasize the set of strings, guitar strums, and shuffling drums that pepper all over the record. His production lets the melodies have some gracious accompaniments, especially with Lucy Dacus’ robust vocals that have always been enrapturing and gripping. “Limerence” is a heartwrenching ballad where the fleeting strings and piano lines only amplify Lucy’s composed realizations; “Big Deal” shimmers with its reverb touches and stable drums; the strings across “Ankles” open up the glistening shuffle of the hook; “Come Out” utilizes its sifting harp and toy piano melody to accentuate its glowing yearning; the warmth exposed on “Best Guess” is effectively delivered through the celesta and tempered folk rock rollick that does get more energetic on the hook; “Bullseye” collects Hozier and Lucy Dacus’ to deliver a pensive yet sentimental post-breakup acceptance; and “Lost Time” embarks on a journey of minimal melodies that gets toppled at the end by the distorted electric guitar.

This leads to Lucy Dacus exploring the granular feelings of sapphic love. Breaking apart from a previous relationship when she knows she has to end it, and finding newfound romance with Julien Baker. It’s a simple narrative, but it’s not without the layered insight that manages to keep all of her restrained poetry still churns its emotional potency. All throughout the record, there are pieces of questioning how sticking to a specific role can be so limiting and stiff: the aspects of getting married and choosing a wonderful relationship that might end up being so still are something that swirls around Lucy’s thoughts, to the point that she has to end that relationship herself. Yet, despite how that past relationship has decayed on cuts like “Talk” and “Bullseye”, she still clings to those memories in her heart. When no ill will is left behind, what does end up being carried is the acceptance of that heartbreak, and moving forward to find new love.

Now, that newfound romance Lucy Dacus now embraces with Julien Baker is not as clear-cut as one might think. On one hand, there is that clear embrace of that yearning love that’s ever so heartfelt and wholesome, but on the other hand, there is an uneasy tension that whirrs around the relationship. All coaxed through how Lucy Dacus’ passion is being tested, where clinging to whatever feeling of searching a forever romance may be rummaged out by the industry that might crash her out, the instability with letting her emotions break through as she has to keep herself in her best behavior, and how she has to play a gentle role that might cross with Julien Baker’s more reckless attitude. But despite all those odds stacked against her, she will continue to embrace each and every moment that she has with Baker, all until the very end of their relationship.

That potency that Lucy Dacus does pull together doesn’t get away from the duds that undercut the music and poetry. The melodies and hooks are not as captivating compared to the ones that she has delivered greatly in the past, the poetry is a bit undersketched (“Forever Is A Feeling”), and certain tones and lyrical focus that end up sticking like a sore thumb (the heavier attempts of “Talk” and “Most Wanted Man”, and the emphasis of friendship between Lucy Dacus and Phoebe Bridgers on “Modigliani”). It is, at parts, a bit weaker than her previous output.

Yet, at the same time, ‘Forever Is A Feeling’ does cherish the depth and emotional resonance that Lucy Dacus has always embraced within her performances and her storytelling, where despite the softer tones shaving out her stark writing and sharp hooks, the yearning that she does impart is just so grounded, touching, and even aching at spots. The position of being in a relationship that might be a bit shaken, but cherishing the moments being shared and the acceptance of what will eventually occur is both hopeful and mournful at the same time. To find forever is to keep holding to a gratifying feeling that might be so impossible to reach, but the journey of trying to get there will make it all worth it in the end.

---

Favorite Tracks: ‘Big Deal’, ‘Ankles’, ‘Limerence’, ‘Come Out’, ‘Bullseye’ ft. Hozier, ‘Lost Time’

Least Favorite Track: ‘Modigliani’