On “Forever Is a Feeling,” Lucy Dacus Gets Raw, Real, and Orchestrally Ethereal

Clover Martin, Assistant Editor

April 2, 2025

Lucy Dacus’ latest album, “Forever Is A Feeling,” pulls you into a world of longing and connection, where orchestral flourishes meet deeply personal storytelling.

Lucy Dacus’ fourth solo album, “Forever Is A Feeling,” feels like a 13-track glance at an old diary — a stack of drafted but never-sent love letters and confessions.

Dacus opens up a deeply personal space for us to peer into.

Released on March 28, the album signifies a refined progression for the singer-songwriter and Boygenius alum. Featuring contributions from bandmate and recently announced partner, Julien Baker, the record delves into the complexities of love: its tenderness, volatility, and the unrelenting grip it holds on us.

Dacus blends chamber-pop orchestration with her trademark vocals, which can’t help but be imbued with honesty and authenticity. Drawing from a diverse mix of genres — including folk, rock, and baroque pop — “Forever Is A Feeling” creates lovely and lush arrangements that perfectly pair with her classic, evocative storytelling.

Lighter and more ethereal than “Home Video,” her third studio album, or “The Record,” Boygenius’ debut, this release is infused with a raw, aching honesty. Despite being her most refined record to date, it remains deeply emotional and vulnerable. Written and recorded while touring with Boygenius — a group that has now disbanded — “Forever Is A Feeling” captures the universal sentiments of love, longing, and the inevitability of change.

“Forever Is A Feeling” Tracklist

“Calliope Prelude”

This song takes just over a minute to set the stage for the album.

Through sweeping orchestral strings, “Calliope Prelude” introduces the emotional depth of the record. While it shares some melodic elements with “The Record,” this instrumental opener leans into a grand chamber-pop sound, moving away from the spikier moments of that album.

Named after the Greek muse of epic poetry, this song hints at the album’s focus on love and vulnerability, with its orchestration creating a soothing atmosphere that paves the way for the deeply personal themes to come.

“Big Deal”

This song works wonders as it gently fades in from “Calliope Prelude,” immediately pulling you into its warm embrace.

The song is nothing short of serenade, urging you to melt into its melancholic rhythm, beginning with the very first lines: “Flicking embers into daffodils / You didn’t plan to tell me how you feel / You laugh about it like it’s no big deal / Crush the fire underneath your heel.”

The track tells of a bittersweet love story, cushioned by tender lyrics and Dacus’ steady, comforting voice.

She explores love in all its forms — obsessive, gentle, uncertain — capturing them in quiet, reflective moments. “We both know that it would never work,” she sings softly. “You’ve got your girl, you’re gonna marry her.” The words hang in the air, like the echo of a distant river, pulling you deeper into the ache of unspoken longing.

It’s hard not to think about this love story in the context of Dacus’ real-life relationship with Julien Baker, and that’s part of what makes the album feel so intensely personal. The vulnerability in her voice feels honest, as if we’re hearing the internal tug-of-war between desire and reality, rendering the track not just a reflection of love’s complexity but a piece of her own heart laid bare.

“Ankles”

The lead single off the album, this song glimmers with a cinematic quality that draws you into Dacus’ world, as if you’re right there with her. The orchestration moves like a scene unfolding on the screen, with the rise and fall of the music perfectly mirroring the emotional fluctuations in Dacus’ lyrics.

The addition of violin and cello alongside the traditional drums, bass, and guitars creates a lush, open soundscape, giving the track room to breathe and develop. While it may not carry the same sharp edges as “Big Deal,” it exudes a delicate, filmic atmosphere, like a quiet moment captured in slow motion.

Dacus’ vocals take center stage with her smooth, mellow timbre filling the space with longing and vulnerability. There’s a tender, almost sheepish quality to her delivery, as if each word is a quiet confession.

Lyrically, “Ankles” paints a picture of love wrapped in uncertainty, with Dacus navigating the tension between desire and fear, with her begging her partner: “I want you to show me what you mean / Then help me with the crossword in the mornings / You are gonna make me tea / Gonna ask me how did I sleep.”

“Limerence”

Unfolding with spiraling, theatrical chords like pale light slipping through window slats, this track captures the haunting, often overwhelming state of mind that accompanies romantic obsession.

“Limerence” — a term for that obsessive longing for someone that often veers into melancholic thoughts — wraps itself in a combination of delicate orchestration, highlighted by violinist Phoenix Rousiamanis’ contributions.

The track builds with anxious, upward spirals of piano, evoking the emotional whirls of a mind caught in desire. Dacus leans into this tension with lines that feel both resigned and full of yearning: “If I stay busy / Maybe I'll forget how I feel and go on living life as I planned it / So bring on the parties, I wanna go dancing / My arm 'round the waist of a friendly acquaintance.”

“Modigliani”

Opening with a sincere yet direct energy, this song pulls you in with Dacus’ forever unflinching delivery.

The track’s title, named after the melancholic Italian painter, sets the tone for a song that feels deeply personal yet beautifully restrained. The line, “Modigliani melancholy got me long in the face,” references the painter’s iconic, elongated figures, a fitting metaphor for the emotional landscape Dacus paints in this song.

The brilliance of Modigliani lies in its writing — a perfect example of Dacus’ ability to capture fleeting, everyday moments and make them resonate. Though the delivery is subdued, the lyrics are striking in their directness. She cuts through the fluff with a sense of urgency, asking: “Why does it feel significant? / Why do I have to tell you about it?”

The song shifts to explore the complexities of a relationship with someone who is always just out of reach, with Dacus acknowledging the feeling of sharing seemingly mundane details — like watching a loved one recount a story you know by heart — and the weight those moments carry: “I've heard this anecdote at least a dozen times / Yeah, I know every word and inflection as if it were mine / I like watching you win over a new crowd / You can make 'em go wild, you can leave 'em spellbound / But you will never be / Famous to me / You will never be / Famous to me.”

“Talk”

This track might just be my favorite.

Starting with a surprising contrast, the song begins soft and flowery before quickly plunging into a gritty, intense reckoning with the end of a relationship.

Dacus’ voice, once full of warmth, feels hollow and weighed down as the electric guitar bites sharply through the track, blending into static as the song unfolds. There’s an aggressive tension here, but it’s not stark. It’s the quiet simmer beneath the surface, building to something that feels heavy with resignation: “Why can’t we talk anymore? / We usеd to talk for hours / Do I make you nervous or bored? / Or did I drink you to thе last drop?”

“For Keeps”

This song is a standout for its pure poetry and lyrical beauty.

The simplicity of the guitar strum paired with Dacus’ characteristic soothing, authentic voice is a perfect canvas for her storytelling. There’s something about this track’s understated instrumentation that lets her words breathe, allowing the lyrics to shine in their full, resolute beauty.

Dacus’ lines here feel almost divine in their specificity, like she’s caught a glimpse of something greater — something transcendent, yet still deeply human: “God is in the gap in your teeth / You are doing the Lord’s work / Every time you smile at me.”

But the heart of the song comes in the contradiction she lays bare, the space between desire and reality. With aching clarity, she continues: “But I still miss you / When I'm with you / ‘Cause I know we're not / Playing for keeps.”

This cuts right through the album’s overarching theme of fleeting love and long-term longings. It’s a direct contrast to “Forever Is A Feeling:” the idea that love can feel infinite, even if it’s never really meant to last.

And with that, we move straight into the title track, “Forever Is A Feeling,” where those ideas unravel even further.

“Forever Is A Feeling”

The titular song offers a rare moment in music, where synth feels almost acoustic, blending seamlessly with Dacus’ dulcet tones.

The song’s melody is tender and captivating, and the beat that pulses over the chorus carries an almost tactile sensation, like condensation against well-loved glassware or the beads of water that linger after a bathtub is drained.

It’s a moment of clarity, a feeling of peace and resolution, as the song captures the ephemeral nature of both joy and pain.

The words themselves, delicate yet profound, serve as a perfect reflection of the song’s crystalline atmosphere: “You knew the scenic route / I knew the shortcut and shut my mouth / Isn’t that what love’s about? / Doing whatever to draw it out?”

“Come Out”

This song carries a quiet, reflective weight with its soft harp, almost like a lullaby or chant, as Dacus calls out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The track holds a gentle pining, one that feels intimate and palpable as she reflects on the passage of time and unspoken feelings.

Though this song isn’t a standout, it adds a poignant depth to the album’s exploration of love and its fleeting — sometimes wordless — nature, and the lyrics bring a grounded perspective on aging, relationships, and the moments that shape us: “There's a couple divorcees on a bad first date / And an elderly couple with nothing to say / I used to think that'd be the worst / To grow old and run out of words / Now I have seen some incredible things / I could never describe if I tried.”

“Best Guess”

This song feels like a leap of faith — a quiet gamble, going all in, unsure of what’s on the other side of the bet. The track itself hums along with limpid guitar and keys, keeping things light and pleasant, but it almost feels like it’s holding back.

The lyrics tell a story of a relationship built on change and uncertainty, and yet there's a tender sense of devotion woven throughout: “You may not be an angel, but you are my girl / You are my pack a day, you are my favorite place / You were my best friend before you were.”

This is where the song really shines — the lyrics resonate with a deep sense of connection and wholehearted honesty. But for a track dealing with the weight of taking chances, it leaves you wanting more. It could use a little more intensity, a little more risk, to match the emotional depth of the words.

Still, the sentiment is undeniably sweet, making it a moment that’s quietly impactful, even if it never fully takes the plunge.

“Bullseye (with Hozier)”

This brings a classic Dacus vibe, where simple, rhythmic guitar strums provide the perfect backdrop for a collaboration that feels effortless.

The pairing of Dacus and Hozier is like a natural fit: their voices blend together seamlessly, creating an atmosphere that’s both intimate and expansive.

The chorus hits hard with nostalgic emotion, underscoring the unvarnished, youthful energy of the song: “You're a bullseye, and I aimed right / I'm a straight shot, you're a grand prize / It was young love, it was dumb luck / Holdin’ each other so tight, we got stuck.”

There’s a playfulness here — a sense of love caught in a moment of time — and both artists carry the sentiment with a natural ease. The track doesn't overreach but stays true to its core, bringing out the warmth in the simplest of ideas.

Sometimes love is just about getting caught up in the feeling, and this song captures that beautifully.

“Most Wanted Man”

Kicking off with a jangly guitar tone that feels straight out of Fleetwood Mac or Blue Öyster Cult, this song starts with a hint of bluegrass flavor in its intro.

The track starts with a certain grounding rhythm, but as the first verse hits, the mood lifts, and the warmth of the sound takes over.

It’s a beautiful, sun-soaked song, made even more special by Baker’s contribution on the chorus, adding her own tender touch to a song that feels like a quiet love letter. The lyrics capture a vivid snapshot of a carefree summer moment, filled with a sense of intimacy and joy: “Sitting on the kitchen counter / Counting bug bites on your thighs / Just another southern summer / Sweating bullets in the highs / Watermelon dripping down your chin / Laughing 'til you cry / Sweetest tears I ever tasted / Kissing salt out of your eyes.”

“Lost Time”

“Lost Time,” the outro to the album, gently brings the energy back down, closing the album with a tone that mirrors the beginning — this time with a sense of release, not solemnity.

While there’s still a trace of mournfulness in the song, it feels less trapped in regret and more focused on looking forward. There’s a quiet sense of hope, even in the reflection.

The best part of “Lost Time” comes when the lyrics paints a picture of a quiet morning routine, tender and ordinary yet deeply meaningful: “Our formal attire / On the floor / In a pile / In the morning / I will fold it while you get ready for work, I hear you / Singing in the shower, it’s the song I showed you years ago.”

This intimate moment between Dacus and her partner feels like a breath of peace before the song builds to a subtle, dramatic pull and then fades out, leaving behind a soft lingering echo of connection and a love that continues beyond the fleeting moments captured throughout the album.

It’s a quiet conclusion, but one that feels like the beginning of something new — a beautiful way to close out an album that’s about love, change, and the passage of time.

Overall, “Forever Is A Feeling” offers a delicate, heartfelt exploration of love’s ever-changing nature. It’s an album that lingers long after the last note fades out, just like the feelings it so eloquently captures.

About the Contributor

Clover Martin, Assistant Editor

Junior Clover Martin was born in Pacifica, a small town on the California coastline, and moved to Oregon when she was seven years old. She still visits her hometown during the summers, often returning for music expos or festivals with her father, who works as a composer. Growing up immersed in music, Clover has dabbled in almost any instrument you could think of, though her main focus has always been the drums. It’s rare to see her walking through the halls without AirPods in. She’s never confined herself to just one genre, but her all-time favorite artist is Fiona Apple, and she has been listening to her since she moved to Oregon. Outside of writing for The Falconer, Clover balances her free time writing projects with schoolwork and is currently focused on getting more of her creative stories published. Her favorite classes so far are AP English 3 and Honors French 3. When she’s not found darting around the hallways, she can usually be found in the theater, working behind the scenes running spotlights or managing the lightboard.

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Chris Babinec • Apr 3, 2025 at 8:48 am

Fantastic review!


https://lasallefalconer.com/2025/04/on-forever-is-a-feeling-lucy-dacus-gets-raw-real-and-orchestrally-ethereal/#comment-2426

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On “Forever Is a Feeling,” Lucy Dacus Gets Raw, Real, and Orchestrally Ethereal

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