ALBUM REVIEW: The Record

The Record - boygenius

Boygenius’ debut full-length album is defined by its irreverence, even seen in the aptly named title, The Record. This irreverence is borne of a friendship that comes straight out of a Wes Anderson movie: three rising indie artists form an instant bond before entering the studio to record one song, maybe two, before emerging five days later with a lightning-in-a-bottle EP. On The Record, Boygenius explores the etches and grooves of this friendship, both sharing anecdotes of missing their exit while listening to music together on the interstate and reckoning with the struggles of being wholly seen, flaws and all, in this life and the next. Beyond solely reveling in this friendship, they take the irreverence it allows them to explore questions of self-doubt, gender, canon, and use it to – in Dacus’ words – “fuck around and find out.”

They do just that on songs like the energetic and punk-infused “$20,” where Julien Baker pushes Phoebe and Lucy past their usual sound, describing the “graveyard where we play with fire,” and ending with Phoebe screaming for “twenty dollars,” invoking the sound of a wildfire that simultaneously illuminates the band and burns anything outside of it. Maybe the best song on the album is “Not Strong Enough,” where the band’s dynamic production, gut-wrenching lyricism, and distinct harmonization culminate in the three repeating the refrain “Always an angel, never a god.” Also noteworthy is “Satanist,” which puts the band’s deep rapport on display lyrically as they question how they would follow each other into “satanism” and “anarchism,” or “sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie” together. Musically, Dacus, Bridgers, and Baker sound fluent in sharing the same space, never washing each other out and flowing seamlessly together.

But this same irreverence leads to some of the weaker songs on the album, such as “Leonard Cohen,” whose cheeky ending feels underexplored and like a slight misstep, or “Revolution 0," which sounds like a lovely Punisher B-side but feels disjointed with the other songs on the album and contests the narrative of Boygenius as an effortlessly synergistic group.

While The Record doesn’t capture the same magic of their EP, the band still channels electricity, especially with the closing songs on the album: “Anti-Curse” followed by “Letters To An Old Poet.” The former has the catchy and jangly riffs characteristic of Julien Baker with the mellowed intensity of Bridgers. The latter is a classic Phoebe song that meshes well with Lucy and Julien’s harmonies, with a candor and vulnerability that leaves no recourse besides screaming. Declarative and defiant, expressive and ambient, the song is a cathartic and beautiful ending to The Record. Here, the band establishes their own canon, using a melodic callback to “Me and My Dog” from their EP, narratively continuing the story and giving it a different ending. On the vinyl of The Record, a locked groove causes the disc to spin endlessly at this point, as Phoebe sings “I’m waiting,” never finishing the word until you get up and move the needle yourself – an ending that is once again, emotive, ingenious, and irreverent.

- Jonathan Hayden

Recommended If You Like: Snail Mail, Big Thief, Soccer Mommy
Recommended Tracks: Not Strong Enough, $20, Satanist, Anti-Curse, Letter To An Old Poet
FCC: Explicit – Emily I’m Sorry, True Blue, Revolution 0