Label: Geffen
Release: March 28, 2025
By: Melanie Broussalian
What happens when you fall in love with your best friend? It’s a question that Lucy Dacus may not have all the answers to, but she’s well on her way to finding out. In her fourth full-length release, Forever is a Feeling, Dacus is the most honest and direct she’s ever been in her music. Over the years, we’ve seen her sonically progress from distorted and guitar-filled angst to a softer acoustic approach, suiting her cerebral and thoughtful lyrics. Forever is a Feeling comes at the heels of mega-success Dacus found alongside Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker with their collective project, boygenius, which saw them play SNL, headline giant festivals, and win three GRAMMY awards. As boygenius’ activity came to a close last year, there was ample chatter within fan and queer communities that Dacus and bandmate Julien Baker were dating, subsequently becoming LA’s worst-kept secret. At the time of this review, Dacus confirmed in press interviews that she and Baker are together, and a great deal of this album is about their relationship.
So, what does that mean as a fan and as a listener? Can you separate the emotion and the sentiment from the real-life references? Does the work have more or less personal significance knowing who it’s for? Speaking as someone who’s been a low-key parasocial fan of Dacus (and all the members of boygenius) for the better part of a decade, I find Forever is a Feeling to be Dacus’ most relatable collection of songs yet. It’s in the hyper-specificities that I can find my own experiences of love or the dissolution of it. In “Big Deal,” Dacus hypothesizes the risks and rewards of telling a friend you have feelings for them, knowing that no matter what, their happiness is most important (whether with you or not). “Limerence” is a beautifully arranged piano and string-forward track that represents the fine line between euphoria and insanity when you have all-consuming feelings for someone who doesn’t reciprocate. The lyrics, “I want what we have; A beautiful life; But the stillness; The stillness might eat me alive” so poignantly encapsulates the pain deciding whether to remain in romantic limbo or put your heart on the line knowing there’s a potential for rejection or loss.
While Forever is a Feeling tells a pretty linear story of Dacus falling in love, she makes it clear that love isn’t just romantic, either. One of the most reverent songs on the record is “Modigliani,” which is dedicated to Dacus’ friendship with Bridgers, who also sings backup. The album’s midpoint, “Talk,” sonically harkens back to songs on past records like Historian with distorted electric guitar and bombastic drums as it details the nightmare of no longer having anything in common with your partner except physicality. Thematically, the tense relationship between religion and queerness is a throughline in Dacus’ work, having been raised in a Baptist household and dropping out of Virginia Commonwealth University. On “For Keeps” and “Forever is a Feeling,” Dacus shows us that the extreme dichotomy between heaven and hell, and God and the devil, exists in everything thus canceling each other out. If love is bliss and torture, then all we can do is surrender and accept that both, or neither, are true.
“Come Out” and the album’s singles, “Ankles” and “Best Guess,” are Dacus’ most saccharine love songs, but they’re not flamboyant in their proclamations. Dacus finds intimacy in the small moments: on hikes in new cities, in daydreams during dry board meetings, in doing the crossword together, in tan lines. We’ve become so conditioned to only accepting grand gestures as proof of someone’s love, whether from rom-coms or reality TV or sweeping 80’s hair ballads. Forever is a Feeling challenges us to see that the sum of the small things can amount to something so much bigger and gratifying. This is achieved in part due to Blake Mills’ contributions as the album’s producer, offering fragile and tender instrumentals that compliment Dacus’ delicate musings. Even in songs about separation and heartbreak—like “Bullseye,” featuring Hozier—there’s mutual understanding and respect between two people who shared something beautiful even though it didn’t last.
Forever is a Feeling finishes on a triumphant note with “Most Wanted Man” and “Lost Time.” “Most Wanted Man” is Dacus’ most pointed song directly for Baker, naming her West Tennessee roots; Baker also sings backup, maybe eliciting a small gasp from this writer. This song really is the thesis statement for the entire album. Dacus’ previous work, while always visceral and personal, always kept listeners an arm’s length away. In Historian, the subjects of the songs were vague and Dacus employed literary and mythological references to add a shroud of mystery. Home Video was a coming-of-age chronicle, employing the past tense to create a sense of distance between Dacus and her audience. But in Forever is a Feeling, and especially “Most Wanted Man,” there’s no hiding behind pretense or cerebral references. This experience of love is instinctual, to-the-point, and happening in real time. “Lost Time” is a settled snapshot of someone who has found her person, even if it’s just for now. Forever is in fact a feeling – it’s often fleeting, it’s not promised, and it’s not guaranteed. As the old adage goes, it’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all. And there’s no better soundtrack for falling in love than this album.