It took four years and three long months. Following the release of their debut EP, supergroup “boygenius,” comprised of singer/songwriter trio Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers, and Julien Baker, began the marketing push of their first full-length album, titled “the record.”
Newly signed to publish under Interscope Records, the campaign for this album featured four singles, countless photoshoots, numerous interviews, and a clear trend through it all: the trio couldn’t be happier making music together.
Nearly four months after the release of the first set of singles, we were presented with the rest of the record, and as far as critical reception goes, it’s a little bit divisive (although it appears to be adored by longtime fans).
Anticipation for the release of “the record” was monumental. Evidently, such impossible expectations led many to feel that it fell flat, failing to find a definitive sound or mark the band’s territory as a unique outfit. It isn’t entirely difficult to find a review that cites the album’s reception of general praise to the notable names behind it, discounting or entirely writing off the track-to-track content. While “the record” doesn’t do an exceptional job at planting the band as one with a style unique enough to surface this dive into an exceptionally oversaturated genre, that wasn’t exactly the point.
The three members consider friendship to be at the core of the band’s assembly, and with this album they decided it was time to make that bond a prominent part of their image. Prior to their unification under the “boygenius” moniker, the three initially got together for a triple-headlined tour, despite having yet to musically collaborate. The members of the group weren’t exactly close on a personal level either: Julien and Lucy were industry friends, and Phoebe knew them as associates of her genre. They planned the recording of a song or two for tour promotion, but this studio session led to the recording of their 6-track EP, and the formation of their band.
They found that they got along remarkably well, both as soon-to-be friends and as musical partners. The jigsaw pieces of their individual sounds fell into place with one another seamlessly.
Their self-titled EP was born, featuring two true group cuts, both with a verse from each member, while the rest of the songs were in essence solo tracks with powerful backing vocals from the remaining two women. Although the three weren’t all that close at the time of recording, the project functioned as a marvelous display of talent and potential. As the group grew closer, they began to work on “the record;” a work which is, if nothing else, a beautiful translation of the group’s interactions behind the scenes. Their romantic friendship and deep love for each other is on full display, not only in the excess of photos released through magazines and Instagram posts, but in the content of the album too.
In addition to wishes to put forth their powerful female friendship, boygenius aimed to take down the common perception of rock bands as groups of men from the 70s, or “Coors or the Superbowl,” (Bridgers, The Atlantic) and demonstrate that a modern rock band can be three girlfriends exercising their love for one another. Furthermore, they wanted to disassociate the label placed upon their band, regarding them as three semi-famous (or semi-obscure depending on who you ask) “sadgirl” singer-songwriters who played acoustic guitar, and instead articulate their image as a united band detaching from their existence as solo artists, making music collectively.
Opening the album with a powerful message of lineage and acceptance, “Without You Without Them” is a beautiful acapella piece which takes great advantage of the vocal ranges available between the three. The stripped-down nature of this introduction is blasted away as the bold guitars of “$20” take off in pure rock and roll fashion. Acting as the true opener to the album, the track does a wonderful job of demonstrating how well the three work together vocally, with a verse from each member supplemented by sewn in background vocals from the rest of the women, making for potentially the best demonstration of vocal synergy in their entire discography. It moves into a catchy chorus, before closing on a whirlwind of lyric exuberance, as the three repeatedly recite an individual phrase overtop of one another in a marvelous crescendo, before being closed out by a lovely scream from Phoebe Bridgers.
The follow up track, “Emily I’m Sorry,” is a somber Phoebe-centric song, featuring some of her most emotionally potent writing to date. Struggling to differentiate itself from the rest of Phoebe’s discography, particularly sounding like it would be right at home on her 2020 record “Punisher,” it’s likeness doesn’t detract from its placement on the album. The group vocals on the chorus alongside the aforementioned ripping lyrics make up for any loss of individuality.
Dacus makes a strong entrance with her first solo-esque song on the project in “True Blue.” While clocking in at almost exactly five minutes long, “True Blue” justifies it’s runtime with strong progression and a catchy, yet heart wrenching chorus. Further into the album is “Leonard Cohen,” another Dacus-centered track, which excludes previous instrumentation to shed a spotlight on her vocals and signature guitar. It’s a humorous and heartwarming gem in the track list which makes sure to not overstay it’s welcome.
The follow up “Satanist” is the most traditional rock and roll, with run-of-the-mill drums and a burning lead guitar. This traditionalism is pulled off with charming cliche and entertaining lyrics, describing the group’s experience with performative activism, and an urge to fight back against the all-encompassing system while struggling to find the means to do so.
The second-to-last song in the track list is “Anti-Curse,” the long awaited first and only Baker-centered song on the entire album. Topically amorphous, the song describes various experiences in Julien’s life, while portraying an overall feeling of loss, and a rummaging of sorts to find direction. Climaxing in a powerful whirlwind of drums and guitar, the song fits its placement in the track list quite well. Finally, the album closes with “Letters to an Old Poet,” a sonically soft yet topically brutal ballad, whose final verse pays homage both lyrically and melodically to a fan favorite track from their self-titled EP, “Me and My Dog,” making for one of the most memorable and genuinely touching moments in their catalog.
Through stints of acapella, stadium rock riffs, nostalgic folk passages, and powerful drum breaks, “the record” diversifies the groups’ sound palette with striking prowess and execution. Following through on their goals for the project, friendship and the power of the female bond take a central position, although there is no shortage of their ritualistic evil-man induced hardship-turned-empowerment. Furthermore, the myriad of song styles and structures prove that “boygenius” is a powerhouse of a band, impressively balancing the power of sadness and joy of levity between multiple tracks.
Andrew Freeman can be reached at [email protected].
