7/10
“This is bliss / This is hell,” Lucy Dacus accepts on the title track of her fourth album Forever Is A Feeling, released on March 28. Across 13 songs, the listener is transported to myriad locations; songs take place in concert halls, museums, and European hotels. Most persistently, however, they take place in love. Dacus points to this infatuation—and the crushing uncertainty that comes with it—constantly.
References to gambling, God, and even continental breakfast are complemented by soft harps, acoustic guitar strums, and jingles. On occasion, Dacus trades those muted instruments for intense percussion that match her strong emotions. The album’s sound and lyricism doesn’t stray far from that of Dacus’ supergroup boygenius, which she recently toured with, even featuring backing vocals from Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker themselves.
Atmospheric instrumental opener “Calliope Prelude” is in line with promotional material depicting Renaissance artwork: Calliope was a muse in Greek mythology whose name means “beautiful voice.” “No Big Deal” follows, a bittersweet song with comforting guitar strums in which Dacus teases romance but settles for the predictable comfort of friendship.
Lead single and easy standout “Ankles” is a release of these built-up feelings. “I’m not gonna stop you this time,” Dacus sings over an energetic violin. The catchy, bright track surrenders to sensuality while romanticizing the mundane. “You are gonna make mе tea / Gonna ask me how did I sleep,” she predicts in the chorus.
“Mogdiliani” is fun on the surface, with bouncing chords and sporadic shifts in pace. Dacus is surprised by her lack of resistance to feelings harbored for her famous partner, but still maintains separation from their stardom. “You will never be famous to me,” she tells them.
While love is the album’s central emotion, falling out of it is unavoidable. Hozier joins Dacus to mourn young love through gorgeous harmonies and heartfelt one-liners on “Bullseye.” Harsh drums drown out Dacus’ monotonous, reluctant confessions on “Talk,” in which she realizes she cannot relate to her partner anymore. “Do I make you nervous or bored? / Or did I drink you to the last drop?” she despairs.
These sentiments are quickly swallowed by an onslaught of lyrics expressing gentle, hopeful affection. Dacus is so in love that she wants to write a book about her partner, wants to scream it out even if she can never sing again, so in love that she “still believes in God sometimes” despite atheism’s prevalence in her discography.
Dacus carefully constructs a world consumed by inevitable human connection through elaborate strings and poignant lyricism. Verses paint detailed, serene vignettes occuring in no relevant chronology. She plays it safe with ideas and references, straying from heightened complexity but not sacrificing her wit. This often works in favor of the album, allowing it to be a more digestible and clear listen.
However, blatantly out-of-place writing can briefly pull the listener from the album’s storyline. “I don’t believe in anything anymore except you and me supremacy,” Dacus sings on “For Keeps.” The awkward, unnecessary line detracts from an otherwise endearing track. Similarly, “Limerence” feels unnecessary to the project as a whole; while it uniquely focuses on guilt, it begins thoughts without finishing them.
Dacus’ personal writing typically describes her own feelings and setting, rarely divulging details of her partners. However, on the fast-paced “Most Wanted Man,” Dacus, in awe of her partner, makes it clear who the subject is: “‘Cause who gets the chance like the one that I have? / To catch the most-wanted man in West Tennessee.”
In the end, Dacus regrets her reluctance to admit her feelings. “I love you, and every day that I knew and didn’t say is lost time,” she sings over delicate, restrained instrumentals on superb closer “Lost Time.” A sudden brash instrumental similar to Dacus’ 2021 track “VBS” comes near the end of the song, a stark and welcome contrast from its subdued verses.
Dacus embraces cynicism, anticipating her relationship’s eventual fracture. Instead of letting it swallow her, she remains optimistic by focusing on the present. Her signature subdued vocals and decorative writing are excellent tools to express this. Still, Dacus’ spin on themes that are already tried-and-true and occasional mistakes in world-building make it difficult for complexity to shine.
