It sounds contradictory, perhaps, to note that Boygenius captivated an entire indie-pop nation with the trio’s 2023 album “The Record” and a subsequent sold-out tour… and that most of those fans were then rooting for the supergroup to go separate ways. But it’s not so oxymoronic when you consider that the devotees of Lucy Dacus, Julien Baker and Phoebe Bridgers were smart enough to realize that three solo records could be three times as rewarding as a consolidated group effort. Dacus is first out of the gate with a post-Boygenius solo record. “Forever Is a Feeling” instantly lands as an album that will stand the test of 2025 as one of the year’s best — and offers the comforting assurance that, as these solo efforts emerge, the sum of the group’s parts could be even greater than the whole.
Dacus’ collection of songs is alternately pragmatic and tough and then deeply lovestruck, with an edge that in no way gets in the way of it also being the most romantic record you might hear this year; there’s some real, cerebral wisdom as well as a trace of swooniness to her guardedly elated songs. She has allowed in recent interviews that she is in a relationship with Baker, which would quickly become obvious anyway to anyone parsing a song like “Most Wanted Man.” But if songs about things coming to a close better fit your mood, the album has some doozy breakup songs, too, to break up an optimism that finally becomes dominant. Whichever tack she’s taking, “Forever Is a Feeling” further establishes her as one of the best younger singer-songwriters we’ve got right now — post-Boygenius, but not post-genius.
Dacus sat down with Variety for a lunch before a recent fire-aid benefit in Hollywood, talking about her songwriting inspirations, how Boygenius continues as a friendship even if they’re well off-duty as a band, making the leap into gender-specific lyrics, and why emotional openness is the key to her music at the moment.
There will be a lot of touring activity for you this year, including locally at the Greek — where you’re headlining two nights, right?
Mm-hmm. And I’ve never played there. I came out and sang with Muna at one of their shows and came out and sang with Local Natives at one of theirs, but that’s it. A lot of these venues are bucket-list venues: Radio City, and then headlining Red Rocks, and the Ryman (in Nashville), I’ve never headlined before. The Anthem in D.C., and what else is bucket-listy? The Moody Amphitheater in Austin. Just a ton of places I never thought I’d be able to play on my own, and they’re like selling out. It’s crazy.
You’ll be revisiting some places you played with Boygenius…
But that made sense, because I could easily discredit my involvement with them and be like, “Well, of course, only good things should happen to Phoebe and Julien.” So it does feel different now.
Going into making this new album, did you have it in the back of your mind that when you got done with Boygenius and returned to solo records that you wanted to do something distinct from your past solo work? You worked with some of the same people and some different ones too.
Well, I was making it during Boygenius, some of it. I started in the spring of 2023, which we were really touring, so I’ve always been thinking about it and working on stuff. I think I just knew I wanted it to be lush. There’s a lot of strings and some harp and celeste on this record. And I wanted a lot of perspectives, because I love Collin (Pastore) and Jake (Finch), who I’ve made everything with, but we can kind of read each other’s minds now, and so I wanted some people who were really surprising me. They still surprised me, too, and they had huge contributions on most of the songs, but it’s just cool to learn how other people work in the studio. … Blake (Mills) and I had known each other for six years, and so being friends that run into each other at parties versus working together is very different.
How did you decide to do a duet with Hozier (“Bullseye”)?
That song is about being at peace with walking away from a relationship. So I thought it would be more powerful if it was two people. You know, it’s hard to admit that something is over. And his voice makes me feel a lot, and he’s a really kind person…
That’s interesting that you wanted a kind counterpoint. Any song you put Hozier on is going to create a certain sort of empathetic equality. It’s not possible to go into a song thinking Hozier will be playing the bad guy.
Well, there’s no bad guy in a breakup, in my opinion, unless something really bad happened… In relationships, it’s not a race to figure out who’s the bad one. Both people should be sympathetic and empathetic and aspire towards being legitimately loving instead of this contest of who’s better than the other.
Correct me if I have the ratio wrong, but it feels like this album is split between sort of breakup songs and love songs —half sort of things coming apart, and the other half is things…
…coming together. But when is that not just true of life — things coming apart and other things coming together? But yeah, you’re totally right. It’s a transition point, and it can be a very painful time. But it can also be a very beautiful, life-affirming time.
This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who appreciates you as a songwriter, but I did have a feeling of surprise in listening to this album, in thinking: Oh, the happy songs are as good as the sad songs.
Thank you. That’s actually a huge compliment. That was a goal, I guess — you should be able to write about happiness in a way that isn’t corny or trite. Because I think happiness is actually way harder to write than sadness, and yeah, I’m glad you said that.
There is a maxim among songwriters about positive songs being tougher to write, or write honestly. You seem so adept at it, but did it feel like a challenge, to capture those feelings…
I think the challenge was living a life that showed me these things, and believing what I was saying. The hard part for me is not actually in the writing. It’s being able to express to myself: “OK, I actually do think this,” and making peace with being a person that’s constantly changing and just drowning in nuance. Everything is a gray area, and writing from there is very interesting. And I think that all the sad songs should have this aspect of real care and heartfulness, and the happy songs should have a depth and a sincerity and a severity that makes it serious. And yeah, I’m hoping I did some of that.
The song “Big Deal” has a lot of nuance. On the one hand, it feels like it’s about something ending, and you say in the lyrics that it was never destined to last anyway. But on the other hand, there’s a positive, affirmative chorus where you say again and again, “You were a big deal” — like you need to attest that the relationship and the person are worth commemorating.
And I don’t feel that that’s a happy or sad song. It’s just a situation that happens, where the feelings are on the table and you make a choice about whether or not you’re gonna explore them. And you can keep caring about somebody but choose something else.
Since there are both kinds of songs on this album — the splitting up songs and the embracing love songs — is it safe to guess you were living out both those things in some way over the span of time that you were writing for the album?
For sure. Like, I was in a relationship… I’ve had a few relationships where I loved the person so much and I just know that something isn’t quite right. And then I’ve also had tons of relationships where I have friends that I’m like, “Are we meant to be?” Where I’m so curious about whether it’s our time or not. And just navigating that curiosity without being careless feels like a lifelong project.
“Best Guess” is a remarkable song, and there’s a lovely echo in the way you use the word “best”: “You were my best friend before you were my best guest.”
I would wish that for anyone. You see people say, “Oh, I’m marrying my best friend.” And I’m like, yeah, that’s how it should be, ideally. I don’t know what romance is without friendship.
Even the deepest love songs, though, have this sort of sense of the possible impermanence of relationships, and the definite impermanence of life, while still really wanting to be in the moment and relish that love. Which is a wise thing, if you can nail it.
And sometimes I feel really capable of that, and then sometimes it’s almost like a muscle that I don’t work out, and I get really fearful and I’m like, “No, everything that I love can’t go away.” It takes mental practice to just stay at peace with the idea that, yeah, everything’s gonna come to pass — and that doesn’t mean close off your heart because it’ll be painful when you lose everything. It’s worth the experience of love to have loss at the end of it. I don’t know — we’ll see if I’ll say the same thing when I have more loss. But that’s where I’m at. In our year of our Lord 2025, that’s how I understand it.
Thinking about your friend Hozier, he is embarking on his third nearly year-long tour in a row, touring three years behind one album.
Oh my God. That guy doesn’t stop. It’s crazy.
I bring that up because it’s not the path Boygenius took, as a group. The three of you did a hugely successful tour over the course of one year and then let it go. But there must have been a pressure, or at least the possibility, of staying on tour for a whole ‘nother year, if not longer, knowing the demand for it was there and then some.
I mean, yeah, we sold out Madison Square Garden in an hour, and we had offers that day to be like, “Come back and do three shows here!” Of course we were getting offers. But we made an agreement for the sake of our sanity and our friendship to just do a year. And a lot of people don’t understand that. A lot of people are like, “Well, do the most that you can.” It’s kind of extractivist, in a way, where it’s just like, “Oh, if there’s more there, just take and take and take.” And I just don’t need it, and none of us needed for that to continue. So I feel very at peace with that being at rest. I mean, we all still hang out. I saw them last night. To me, Boygenius lives for us alone, in a way. We are still hanging out, and that’s the part that always mattered the most.
One thing that’s fortunate is that as much as Boygenius fans loved you together, and not everybody got to see a show, the vast majority want just as much to hear the solo records that are coming.
Thank goodness, yeah.
Going back to this record, it’s distinctive thematically from your last album, which was was very retrospective in certain ways, looking back at adolescence. And this record is so much not that.
Nope. It felt really different to write, because “Home Video” was dredging up the past and reflecting and having to remember as many details as possible, with perspective and a little bit of wisdom. Whereas these feelings, I’m just in the middle of them. I have no perspective. I’m reporting from the ground. I don’t know if I’m being wise or if I’ll eat my words in a couple years, but I feel proud of it as it stands, and I believe what I’m saying as it stands,
One thing that stands out about your writing is your sense of lyrical dynamics, where you are often going back and forth between a detailed observation to something a little more general. Those types of songs can be really effective — the ones that move back and forth between really universal sentiments and then just telling an offbeat story.
The Sheryl Crow effect.
I didn’t know there was a name for it! Is that what it’s called?
I mean, I’m just saying that, but I feel like she’s like the best at that. You know, her verses are highly detailed scenes, and then the choruses are really broad, general, understandable, relatable things.
When you do that yourself in songwriting, how much of that is time-consuming craft, spending weeks or months on a song to move those pieces around, or is it a lot more spontaneous than that?
I guess it’s instinctual. I recently started painting for the first time. And the wildest thing about painting is like, what next? You know, why do I want red over here? I don’t know, I just do! Or, why am I putting blue in this corner? I don’t get to find out; it’s just what I think should happen, and it’s kind of a mystery. But that contrast feels like you’re realizing your style just by doing it. You realize that you have your own taste and your own methods. So for me, I think when I’m writing a song, I’ll just feel like if I get too detail-oriented, I need to zoom out. Or if I’m too general, I need the contrast of some anchoring details. I mean, it’s not as a rule, but it just feels almost like a principle of design.
One thing that people may find appealing about you and your style is that, compared to a lot of singer-songwriters, you have maybe more of a pure, beautiful voice. Whereas some of the people who might write more strange details into a song, as you do, might sound a little more crusty, for lack of a better word. You can write that kind of anecdotal or conversational sort of lyric, but with your feel and tone, it feels a little different in a way where that pure voice can make it sort of more disarming.
I’ve never thought about that. It’s a really cool thing to notice.
Like, Boygenius was introduced at the Variety Hitmakers event in 2023 by a fan of yours, Joan Baez, who has that kind of beautiful voice. It would seem strange to hear her sing more eccentric or even weird lyrics than she has. If she did, it might be really cool, but it’s not exactly what she does.
Yeah — she’s very zoomed out.
Do you have any self-consciousness about your voice and how people perceive it, in keeping that beautiful tone but having a conversational flow, too?
Sometimes I’ll write a lyric and be like: Have I gone too far toward the conversational? Like, in “Most Wanted Man,” I talk about being in a fancy hotel and still drinking shitty coffee from a Keurig. When I sang “Keurig,” I was like, is that too ugly? Does that ruin the illusion? But I thought it was funny. And the rest of the song is so sweet… I know we’re eating a meal right now, so maybe I’m thinking food-wise. But some of those things are just kind of tart — you know, if everything else is sweet, you need these certain words or images that broaden the palette of the song.
Is there anybody that you aspired to sing like, whether it was a realistic goal or not?
I don’t even know what year this was, but Adele had a free single on iTunes of “Hometown Glory.” I thought her voice was so beautiful, and I used to sing it, and her vocal quality was a little more similar to my lower, like slower (range). So maybe Adele at a young age. And then I was really into Fergie as a kid and would sing “Big Girls Don’t Cry.” But at this point, no. That actually sounds like a nightmare, to try and sound like someone else. Whoever’s doing that should just stop.
Can you think of the best compliment you’ve gotten from someone that you revere or respect?
Best compliment, on my voice? I played South by Southwest one year, and Nick Offerman introduced my band and said that my voice sounded like having honey dripped on you while you’re high on Dilaudid, which I thought was really specific, and really funny. I’m like: Has that happened to you?
Some people might be surprised to hear you cite Sheryl Crow as someone whose writing you admire, at least maybe some of the younger fans who might think you are left of the mainstream.
I don’t care what stream it’s in. Stuff is good or not. I listened to mainstream music in middle school because that’s all there was. And then in high school, not-mainstream music, because that’s what my friends were listening to. And then there was going through life and realizing it doesn’t make you cool or uncool to like a certain thing. To me, the coolest thing is just being in touch with your personal taste, despite what other people think. Sometimes when I meet someone and they really love something that everyone hates, I kind of love them for it. I’m like: “Wow, you really are in touch with your own parameters of what is good art.” And I respect it.
With the Boygenius album, there was one song, “Not Strong Enough,” that you characterized as being willing to make something that sounded less indie and more like a big radio song.
Well, that was Phoebe’s thing. I think Phoebe thinks a little bit more like, “What if I did this?” and then she tries it. Whereas I have to do something and then be like, “Oh, that’s what I did.” Her element of surprise is how she executes an idea. And this, again, isn’t across the board, but I’m more surprised by finishing it and being like, “Whoa. I didn’t know that’s where that was going, and look at where we ended up.”
You described this new album as lush, but there are songs that have some bounce to them.
Oh yeah. But I mean, some of those songs with bounce are not singles. I wouldn’t even say that they’re catchy, but they have a lot of pop elements — and pop doesn’t equal radio. Like, pop is a very interesting sonic realm. And you know, I’ve never loved genre. I want to be able in the same song to have folk and pop and rock and electronic elements, if I want that. You know, there’s one song on this album, the title track, that is like this repeated piano part, digital drums, real drums, and then the chorus is a 12-string guitar and harp, and then it comes back into the electronic space, and then it goes full rock-band at the end. And that’s just what it called for. No one was like, “You know what? This is starting to get too folky,” or “Let’s stay within this thing.” I would never work with someone that would be like a genre purist. It’s not interesting to me.
Looking at the credits, there’s a lot of studios listed on here, even on some individual tracks, so most of these songs look like they were worked on over a period of time, sometimes with different people and places.
Kind of instinctually, I would start some songs with people and it’s really clear when it’s like, “Oh, we totally understand this, let’s do it.” And then other songs, it’s harder to execute and I know what I want to hear, but I can’t do it myself, and so I’ll go to somebody else and be like, “Do you get what I’m going for?” And I’m basically mix-and-matching a bunch of people’s methods and learning how a lot of different people navigate recording. It made it very messy, at the end, to figure out who did what in a song. And I was worried it was gonna sound disparate, but when I listen back, it doesn’t sound to me like it’s a bunch of different people’s opinions. I just hear my opinion kind of reigning over everything. … I don’t think it’s a surprise, but I am very at the helm. It’s not like I bring my little songs and somebody else fleshes them out. I’m really detail-oriented. I guess that makes sense, that if in the songwriting I’m detail-oriented, that I would be in recording too. But I’m very hands-on, and that’s fun. All art needs someone to be at the helm.
I was the only person that was in the room for every day of recording, and it’s the closest I’ve gotten to my own taste so far. I mean, I don’t listen to my own music — I don’t know people that really do, because I’m like, why would I wanna hear my own voice? I’ve already got that in my head! But, yeah, I think I like this record the best of any record I’ve made. And I think you have to in order to be confident putting something out. If I was like, “Oh, yeah, this isn’t as good as ‘Home Video,’ it’s not as good as ‘Historian,’” how would I show up to interviews and be like: This is worth someone’s time? You’ve gotta always think it’s the best thing.
Looking at some of the lyrics of the new album, there are at least two instances where you reference either going to a concert or not going to a concert, which sound very specific to you. Like, oh, what’s it like for you to be Lucy Dacus and be at someone’s show? Maybe it’s someone you’re in love with or in a relationship with, or it’s just a matter of, as a celebrity, can you really just go to the show? Also, I liked the line about — and I assume this has to come out of real life, because you wouldn’t make it up —“You caught me reading at your show.”
“Caught me reading at your show.” Yeah, that’s a fun one. And then there’s also one in “Bullseye” that’s “I love the way you play guitar,” or… wait, what is it? “Wish I could come to the show, but I understand / Can’t just walk in like any other fan” — that might be the one you’re referencing. Yeah, that’s more about seeing an ex and being like, “If I’m here, it might throw you off, or make your show worse.”
But it’s true — going to see music, I still do it, occasionally, or actually sometimes very often, because I still love music and I love to see my friends playing. But depending on the genre, if it’s a crowd of my fans too, I can feel like I’m a distraction, and that feels really kind of embarrassing and not fair to who’s on stage. And yeah, it’s definitely not a fun part of how things have changed, but, you know, I don’t want to complain too much.
And were you reading at someone’s show?
I was. The night that I met Julien, I was reading “Portrait of a Lady” by Henry James, which we’ve talked about before. Yeah, those paying attention will have made that connection, I think, early on.
So, not reading out of disinterest in the concert. Reading just because you’re really into Henry James.
Yeah. And I’ve seen some people read at my shows, in-between the opener and my show, and they have the headlamps and they’re up at the front and reading their book. and I’m like, “Icons!” — like, that’s so cool. Like, someone being self-possessed enough to just be like, “That’s how I want to spend my time,” that takes confidence in a way.
The subject has come up about you doing something different on this album in specifically referring to a female love interest. Probably a lot of us hadn’t noticed that you weren’t using specifically female pronouns before, because you’ve been out and didn’t seem to be avoiding anything. But was that a conscious shift you had to make this time?
There’s just one song on this record, “Best Guess,” where I say, “You were my girl,” you know. And it felt a little like, “Oh. So that narrows down some experiences.” But I like it. You know, the record’s not out, but I have played the song, and people make a little noise when I say that and get excited. So I’m glad that it’s a supportive thing instead of like an “Oooh”… People are happy to hear it, instead of offended or upset. So I’m lucky.
You seem like not a real soapbox kind of person, but do you feel like it’s important to represent right now? We talked before with Boygenius about some of the kids on that tour feeling like they had a place to belong when they showed up, that they might not in their normal hometown life. Some things that are taken for granted in some cities are not in others, so it meant something that they could see people on stage and around them in the crowd that mirrors who they are in some way.
Yeah, I’m an extremely lucky person, in that I get told that those shows really meant a lot to people, or people came out after them, or at them. And representation is interesting, because I don’t think that participation in any demographic makes you a good or bad person. But I do think that with people who are in denial about who they are, that affects their life in more ways than themselves. It really corrupts your ability to have honest relationships with other people, and with yourself. It’s very spiritually unfit to tell yourself that who you are doesn’t matter, or who you love doesn’t matter — it’s a really detrimental state of being. So if anything that I make can save somebody time and can help them come to terms with who they are and just be at peace sooner, I can hang my hat on that and feel really good about that.
The audiences at those Boygenius ones, and probably the solo shows you’re about to do, skew pretty young, but there’s also a lot of age diversity. You have a lot of middle-aged or even older fans.
That’s really cool. You know, there is an interesting overlap between the 18-year-old girls and the 60-something guys there. I feel like we see a lot of girls and their dads, or even just dudes coming alone because they like rock music and emotionality. I don’t know what that connection exactly is, but maybe the sixties are a really emotional time for somebody. I don’t know yet. What do you think?
Divorce can do a lot for a refreshed appreciation of the themes of popular music. But for those of us who are not in the youngest demographic, it’s fun first relating to the songs directly, then emphasizing with the kids who are going through some coming-of-age feelings with the music.
The real trick is that you’re always coming of age. That doesn’t stop either; that keeps going. So maybe there’s more justice for people of all age brackets having to reckon with hard feelings or good feelings and new things. And I do think maybe people in their teens or twenties are way more aware that they’re in a transitional phase, because it’s like, “Oh, I’m going from being a kid under my parents’ jurisdiction to my own person.” That’s very covered, culturally, that transition. But I imagine that I’m experiencing way more subtle seasonal changes in life as life goes on.
Do you think ahead to how the songs on this album will hit people, and how some may relate more to the love songs and some more to the opposite?
Yeah, something for everyone, hopefully. Even with the few people that I’ve talked to that have heard it, people will be like, “I felt really seen by ‘Limerence.’” And I’m like, “Wow — sorry. That sounds hard.” Or people will be like, “I feel really seen by ‘Best Guess.’ That’s how I feel about my partner,” and I’m like, “That’s amazing.” That sentiment of lost time and “I need to make up for all the time that I wasn’t telling you that I love you”… I hope that people who will give it the time of day will find something that speaks to them.
A lot of the songs are surprisingly heart-on-your-sleeve.
I mean, why not? But I think that’s part of the point, is to keep it on your sleeve. You’re gonna hide that away? I mean, I guess people hide their heart in order to try and protect themselves from pain. I guess maybe there are seasons for that. But I don’t know. I think if everyone had their heart on their sleeve, the world would be a better place. My opinion.
