Phoebe Bridgers - "Lost Weekend" (2026)

This new record from Phoebe Bridgers might just be the most anticipated of the year for chronically online music nerds, as unlike her other boygenius compatriots (Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker), she didn't really capitalise on the supergroup's hype to release a solo record immediately after all the boygenius promo and tour wrapped up; instead very much going of the radar for a couple of years. You can count me in that group too, as the boygenius record has basically been in constant rotation for me since its release in 2023; and her preceding solo album (2020's Punisher) has grown into an all time favourite for me. The way that album quietly and subtly seeps into your bones is really quite moving. If ever a record sounds like getting caught up in the past on a cold, wet November day, it is Punisher.

The first taste we got of the album was the second track, Lost Boys, which on first glance is the antithesis to a lot of what Punisher (and Phoebe's work in general) represented. It is a big, bombastic, pop-folk tune that isn't subtle in the slightest and features pop-superproducer Jack Antonoff on the credits. In isolation, it could be construed as Phoebe "going mainstream" and "selling out". But to me, it feels more like Phoebe stepping up to all of those who she has inspired and have taken her sound, commercialised it and made it radio-friendly; and showing that she can do it better. The instrumentation swells up to the massive choruses and Phoebe's songwriting is as sharp as ever - telling tales of these supposedly damaged and reckless men she seems to attract that never seem to want to grow up and take some responsibility. My favourite part is the cathartic, screamed "One, two, three, AHHHHHH!" in the run up to the final chorus of the song.

Lost Weekend, as whole, is a record on the longer side, and while listening I've found myself compartmentalising the album into three acts. I have no idea if this was the intended approach, but my first exposure to the tracklist was Phoebe posting the vinyl running on Instagram where the album was split into 3 sides (as opposed to 4 that is the usual for records that spill onto a second disk). I think this is more to do with the side D featuring a vinyl-only bonus track featuring Isaac Wood of all people (his return to the public eye was something I never had expected). But I now can't not listen to the album in this way (despite not owning the vinyl currently), and honestly I think it works pretty well. The first leg of the record is where most of the 'big-hitters' like Lost Boys sit: the ones with slightly less dark lyrical content, and the more mainstream-palatable instrumentation and song structures. Again, to reiterate, this is not the 'sellout' chunk of the record, as all of these songs are frankly brilliant and show Phoebe to be leagues ahead of her contemporaries.

Admittedly, the two tracks that sit either side of Lost Boys very moody and low-key, and have some left field production quirks that really set up the overall feel and vibe of the record. The opener, The Outside, brings us into the record with heavily processed and vocoder-effected vocals set against a very bare and stark instrumental. The song is structurally really simple, with two verses and a two line chorus, repeated twice, and this set up is used to highlight the themes of the song - about how Phoebe can dissociate in traumatic situations, but that also hinders her experience of moments that are supposed to be joyous as well. The first verse focuses on the funeral of Phoebe's father (who her complicated relationship with has often been a topic in her past work, and is also much of the focus of Lost Weekend). It features the brilliantly evocative double entendre "One more time for old time's sake / I'll watch him get carried away". The second verse, however, shows how this coping mechanism has turned against Phoebe, as she describes dissociating while performing her own concert. It's a really powerful way to open up the album and sets up the themes of grief and the complicated feelings that come with losing someone who you have such a messy and tangled relationship with.

Kill Me follows the bombast of Lost Boys by once again slowing it down with a gentle arpeggiated acoustic guitar line, pillowy synths and echo-y, reverbed percussion. It's the longest song on the record and also my favourite. The use of negative space during the chorus as Phoebe sings "This is gonna kill me ... Wait" is exquisite. The song features the first reference on the record to 'Bobby', who, as those who keep up with celeb gossip know, is comedian / musician Bo Burhnam and Phoebes partner. The lyrics of the track read to me as the outpouring of guilt and worry about the messy ending and potential overlap between Phoebe's relationship with Bo and her previous relationship (which was also a high-profile celeb pairing). The track completely switches up in its final moments into a loud, clattering, industrial sounding instrumental with ominous backing vocals from Cameron Winter (for some reason credited as Son John Johnson as if his extremely distinctive voice wasn't obvious!). The music gets lounder and more intense as Phoebe howls "Let's go missing", before ending with a hard cut. It's such a phenomenal outro to the song that I would have easily taken another minute. As it stand, however, it is still one of Phoebe's very best songs.

Phoebe's blossoming relationship with Bo is the other main theme of the record, and the following two songs on the first 'act' or the album continue on that narrative. The Governor's Waltz is a twinkly waltz with some quite cutting lyrics taking swipe at her previous relationship and his new partner. It is one of the more straightforward and poppy tunes on the record, but Phoebe still kills it with her really deadpan delivery. Bobby closes out the first side with a track even more bombastic and over the top than Dead Boys. Everything in the mix is layered up and blow out, and Phoebe is yelling and howling on the vocals. Quite fitting for a song that is all about overwhelming infatuation with someone.

Things get darker and weirder on the onset of the second side, opening with the title track. The song is one of the more obtuse on the record, with it being unclear who the lyrics are about / directed to. Some seem to be about Phoebe's father, others are clearly focused on previous romantic partners. On the whole, the fuzzy narrative makes the song read to me about getting stuck in the past, reliving the good times and the bad, and focusing on all the untied threads from long ago. Much like Kill Me, the back end of the song shifts into something completely different - this time being a spacey electronic outro with skittering electronics and soaring strings. Haunted follows this up with a jaunty, off-kilter americana tune. The song has already become a fan favourite from the record, and while it took me a little while to warm up to it myself, I can certainly see why. The imagery around haunted houses and the supernatural would make it fit snugly on punisher, and the song has a driving momentum to it that Phoebe songs aren't typically known for.

Panorama sits at the dead centre of the record and I feel like is one of the most bold and ambitious tracks on the album. It is essentially an ambient, folktronica interlude with no lyrics outside of a distant hazy outro. This leads into Still Standing, which is easily the darkest song on the record and quite possibly out of Phoebe's discography overall. The song ditches a lot of obtuse references and unstructured narratives that often characterises Phoebe's work, in favour of quite directly confronting her confusing and troubled relationship with her dad. The final verse has a pretty harrowing recounting of the domestic violence Phoebe witnessed growing up, and every time I listen I am left bereft by it.

Liberty Tree closes out the second 'act', and is the first time I feel like the record faulters a little. It's another big, bombastic lovesong dedicated to Bo; but I feel like it is functionally covering the same role on the album as Bobby, and I'm also usually still processing the devastation of Still Standing and it just sort of breezes by. I feel like the record could have done with another instrumental cut separating these two just to give a little more space and breathing room to both tracks. It features a melodic callback to Graceland Too from Punisher, but I've not quite figured out the link myself.

The closing third 'act' switches things up once more, with most of the six tracks being very short, fragmentary, almost vignette-like songs. I don't know if the intention was to create an Abbey Road-esque extended closing medley, but it does feel like some of these songs are a little underdeveloped in isolation. Never Going Back! works well as an opener to the third side, but on its own doesn't really offer much. Other Plans is spooky and haunting, but consists of only one verse and a chorus when I feel like the atmosphere of the song could have carried more. Lost Parade is another short instrumental interlude that calls back to Graceland Too. 

I Can't Wait is the first fully fledged song on the back end of the album, and certainly feels like a dramatic culmination of the album's sound and tone. It flits between sections of pulsating folktronica and more organic, twangy americana, before closing on a subtly triumphant indie folk climax with a powerful horn section. The song features the return of Cameron Winter, and his chemistry with Bridgers is excellent and really makes the tune. I Can't Wait would make a fitting closer to the record, but it's fitting that a record as thematically heavy and emotionally scattered as Lost Weekend once again turns towards the darkness with its final two tracks. The atmospheric instrumental of As Above feels weightless in a very creepy and unnerving way, almost like being abducted by aliens - which feels very fitting for a song all about grief, the afterlife and moving on. The record closes out on a simple acoustic reprise of Lost Weekend, with a new verse that features lyrics looking back on Phoebe's relationship with her father in a much more endearing sense - highlighting the complexities and contradictions of familial relationships, and even after it is all over there still isn't a clear answer.

Lost Weekend is a really great album, and for the most part lives up to the hype. The ambitious ambient and folktronica elements mesh seamlessly into Phoebe's existing sonic palette, and her songwriting is as on point as it always is. If anything, the record could've done with being even longer; with more space for more of the atmospheric interludes, and for some of the shorter cuts on the back end to develop into fully fledged songs. It isn't quite as tight, or immediately cathartic as Punisher - but I guarantee you that if you let sit with you for a while, there is so much that keeps you coming back.

Top Tracks: Outside, Lost Boys, Kill Me, Governor's Walz, Bobby, Lost Weekend, Haunted, Panorama, Still Standing, I Can't Wait, As Above, Lost Weekend (Reprise)

8/10

Sam Fender - "People Watching" (2025)

Sam Fender has grown into probably the biggest contemporary UK rock act since Arctic Monkeys released AM over a decade ago, and its not hard to see why. His earnest, everyman persona and relatable anthemic singles about the struggles of everyday life in the working class make him a shoe-in for widespread appeal. And sprinkle in his fantastic live show just to make sure. He has also grown significantly as an artist over these years. His debut, Hypersonic Missiles, was a fine album with some good moments; and the follow-up, Seventeen Going Under, was a good album with some truly excellent moments. However, I didn't really expect him to grow any more as my two biggest issues with Seventeen Going Under felt so intrinsic to Sam's identity as a person and artist. Them being 1) that his heartland rock / Springsteen worship aesthetic began to run a bit thin by the end of the record and 2) his political writing while well intentioned was always pretty unfocused and surface level. Sam's strengths clearly lie in the stories about his own life and experiences not in political sloganeering.

So it's great to say that Sam has proved me wrong and People Watching is an improvement on Seventeen Going Under in pretty much every way. It's tighter, more varied, with more consistent writing and more dynamic production. Sam has brought on indie rock super-producer Marcus Dravs and The War On Drugs' frontman Adam Granduciel as co-producers which elevates the feel and atmosphere of these tracks. The bombastic, anthemic cuts just pop that bit more and the slower moments have way more space and atmosphere to them. The production on his past releases was always fine, but it is night and day going back to them now. People Watching makes them feel so plain and perfunctory. Similarly the tracklist feels more varied, with Sam leaning into a bit of Britpop on Chin Up (this song sounds so Oasis), jangly indie rock on Rein Me In and looser more Americana stylings on the singles Wild Long Lie and Arm's Length. Surprisingly, there isn't a single traditional piano balled on here, considering there was like 4 on SGU. This results in a record that feels much tighter than SGU, despite being a little bit longer (at least compared to the standard edition).

Lyrically, Sam is also playing to his strengths way more. He primarily focuses on telling the stories of his own experiences and those closest to him; however when he does go for more broader societal / political topics, the writing does more focused and purposeful. The opening title track is a huge, bombastic sing-along anthem; but has a tender story within its verses about the passing of Sam's friend and mentor, Coronation Street actress Annie Orwin, and her heart-breaking final days within a rundown and underfunded care home. Crumbing Empire is the most overtly political song on the record; and where a younger Sam would rattle out fairly meaningless sloganeering and surface level commentary; this song is a really measured and thoughtful examination of the scars that the legacy of Thatcherism and Austerity has left on the North East with genuine examples of the impacts on working class people (his parents included). Little Bit Closer is a competent critique of the moral perfectionism that is applied to religion within the context of the working classes and TV Dinner is a scathing rager where Sam lashes back at a music industry that chews up and spits out working class musicians and exploits them for their 'credibility'. 

Two songs that I would like to touch on in greater detail is Rein Me In and the closer, Remember My Name. Rein Me In is just one of those songs that is like crack to my ears; the jangly guitar riff and the bittersweet and yearning lyrics just do it for me. Sam has just released a duet version with Olivia Dean which only elevates the song further. I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being my most listened to song on my Spotify Wrapped at the end of the year to be honest. Remember My Name is a heartfelt ode to Sam's grandparents and his childhood memories of them set against a stark brass band arrangement recorded by Easington Colliery Brass Band. It is hard not to feel it pull at your heartstrings (especially seeing it live with the Easington Band where Sam is barely getting through the song himself without crying) and a perfect closer for the record.

People Watching is an interesting development from Seventeen Going Under, as each element when taken on its own is only really a subtle improvement when compared to the last record. But the fact that this improvement has been applied across the board makes it a much more enjoyable experience overall. Considering the pretty steady upward trajectory across his 3 albums, I'm very much looking forward to where he goes next.

Top Tracks: People Watching, Nostalgia's Lie, Wild Long Lie, Arm's Length, Crumbling Empire, Rein Me In, TV Dinner, Remember My Name

8/10

Lucy Dacus - "Historian" (2018)

As I mentioned in my last post, I'm trying to get back to talking about older stuff on here, not just new releases, and this was one of my discoveries in 2023 that I really got into. As I've been exploring the rest of Lucy Dacus' and Julien Baker's discographies following the boygenius debut last year, this (Dacus' 2nd album) is the one that I have kept coming back to throughout the year. The record really leans into the rough and ready indie rock stylings that I thoroughly enjoyed from the boygenius album, as well as the raw and heart-on-sleeve lyricism that Dacus' brought to her songs on that project.

The absolutely phenomenal opener, Night Shift, demonstrates what the album is about perfectly. It is a slow burning break-up power ballad. The song starts off quiet and mournful, before progressing into a noisy, fuzzed out 90's alt rock second half where Dacus' vocals morph into something much more bitter and resentful. It is a really dramatic and powerful tune that showcases Lucy's talent as a songwriter and performer. This launches straight into the much more jaunty and jangly Addictions - with much more straightforward indie and chamber pop instrumentation. The song has such a vintage feel to it, focusing on the core sound and vibe without too many bells and whistles.

I think that's what makes this album tick for me. It's focused on being a collection of tight and well written indie rock and singer / songwriter tunes without any guise or image to deflect into. Lucy is earnest and open in the lyrics, there's no smarmy wit or deflective irony here. Nonbeliever tells the story of the rejection and confusion that comes with deciding you don't believe in God in small town America. Similarly to Night Shift, the track starts small and linearly progresses into the swells of strings and guitar. Yours & Mine has a chugging country rhythm section as Dacus despairs in the current state of the USA at the time, and how she doesn't feel like she belongs there anymore.

Timefighter is about coming to terms with the passing of time and the impermanence of life, where Lucy quite bluntly sings on the chorus "I fought time, it won in a landslide". The song is super bluesy and heavy, with a thick baseline and hazy vocals. The track is moody and menacing, and topped off with a rapturous guitar solo on the back end. Next of Kin returns to the jangly vintage indie from Addictions, and is super sweet with its tale of insecurity to being at peace with the world. The penultimate song, Pillar of Truth is a gorgeous ode to Lucy's grandmother, a slow burning Americana jam with twangy guitars and triumphant horns. The track slowly builds to an immense, joyous climax and captures the adoration Dacus feels towards her grandmother perfectly. The record closes out with the quiet and moody Historians. It's a decent enough 'quiet closer', but it feels a bit of a downer after Pillar of Truth and just the general uptempo and forward looking second half of the record.

Historians is a great, straightforward indie rock and singer / songwriter record. No pretence, just well written and emotive tunes that really effectively convey the stories they are describing in the lyrics.

Top Tracks: Night Shift, Addictions, Nonbeliever, Yours & Mine, Timefighter, Next of Kin, Pillar of Truth

8/10