If there’s one thing Californian singer Phoebe Bridgers doesn’t do, it’s rush her craft. During a six year gap since her star-making album Punisher, many singers have made attempts at indie sad-girl folk-coustic. What separates Bridgers is not only her finesse of this genre, but that she is the blueprint. Gracie Abrams, Lizzy McAlpine, and Holly Humberstone, just to name a few, have all clearly used Phoebe as a prototype. During her hiatus, I wondered if this style would become stale, but I should have known Phoebe has always been one step ahead.
Despite the success of “Kyoto,” her 2020 single that skyrocketed Bridgers into success during the pandemic, her third solo album Lost Weekend is not interested in being radio-friendly. It's a soundscape of folk and indie-rock with a surprising amount of ambience, featuring countless collaborators including Bleachers’ Jack Antonoff, Geese’s Cameron Winter (or should I say, Son-John Johnson,) Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker, American Football’s Mike Kinsella, and many, many others.
With one single, a series of secret no-phone shows throughout the U.S., and planetarium-themed album release parties, Phoebe managed to build hype in a completely unique way. Speaking from personal experience, yes, the planetarium was the best possible spot to hear this album for the first time.
The album tells a story through two lenses; grief and love. These themes juggle back and forth throughout the album, yet find a similar conclusion. In “The Outside,” we begin with an extraterrestrial vocoder, setting the cosmic mood of the album. “One more time for old time’s sake, I’ll watch him get carried away”. Phoebe Bridgers’ father died in the summer of 2023, and the concept of his mortality resurfaces many times throughout the album. Her complicated relationship with his history of abuse sets Phoebe on a disassociated quest of meaning and acceptance following his death. It is a slow and gentle introduction to an album full of turbulence.
After listening to the full 52 minutes, it’s clear why “Lost Boys” was the only single. While “The Outside” is chilling and removed, “Lost Boys” is warm, hooky, and upbeat. Its lush accompaniment incorporates horns, guitars, and chimes, while taking an interest in expanding off past songs like “I Know the End,” with explosive screams and theatrical endings. Peter Pan’s Neverland trope pairs well with the existential escapism of this album. Phoebe is either the Lost Boy, dangerously running away from self-reflection, or is offering a meta-commentary on fame and those who gravitate around her. “This machine is killing me, I pretended it was make believe”.
“Kill Me” takes an abrupt turn from the swashbuckling “Lost Boys” and offers a confessional smothered by longing and doubts about mortality. “This is gonna kill me… wait”. When a soft drum line trickles in halfway through, we hear the first mention of Bobby, a character representing her real life relationship with Bo Burnham. As if her defenses were crumbling, the drums creep in, then strings, changing a somber acoustic guitar into a swirling slow-dance. Bobby offers a way out.
“The Governor’s Waltz” was hands down my favorite after attending the planetarium. A waltz is an obvious change of pace for Phoebe, but blends beautifully with her musicality. It details the fall of her engagement with Paul Mescal. “Lets see how long we can go without touching” turns into “Lets see how long we can go without talking”. The slow devolution of the relationship results in some shocking proclamations: “I know you’d never actually think about jumping, but do it for me”. It’s a tragedy in the form of a beautiful lullaby.
Is the next track my favorite on the album because my real life boyfriend is named Bobby? Maybe. Most likely, it’s because “Bobby” is an incredibly endearing anthem that perfectly depicts falling in love. Phoebe is having so much fun surrounded by synths that enchant her. The instrumentation is jumbled, and at times she is so reveled in emotion that there's no choice but to blurt out.
The title track "Lost Weekend” returns to the hushed, intimate roots of Bridgers’ past work until halfway through, it shifts into a techno frenzy that feels almost like an interlude. Phoebe often takes risks like this throughout Lost Weekend but they never feel out of place. She does an incredible job of pairing soft, intimate moments with those that leave the listener pleasantly roused.
Around this point in the album, songs begin to flow in and out of each other, changing and ending so abruptly you can start to lose track of where you are. It also begins to genre-bend with “Haunted”, a bluegrass twist that is reminiscent of a roadtripping song. Then in her most experimental track, “Panorama” goes full ambient-mode, painting a landscape that dissolves the country twang into somewhat of a dark fantasy.
“Still Standing” marks the ladder half of the album, and while I think the first half of the album is arguably much stronger, there is still some great material to be heard. Quite possibly the most depressing song in the album, we’re brought face to face with Phoebe’s father again. “Sometimes I want you back. But not today”. While she juggles the reality of what he has done, she misses and appreciates the time she had with him. “Thank you for everything.”
“Liberty Tree” is childish, silly, and charming, including a clever callback to “Graceland Too”. Then there's “Never Going Back!”, a short jam-band country tune where Phoebe is facing multiple realities at once. Her father isn't coming back, the days of hopeless romance are over, and her relationship with fame is going to be different this time. She's finally accepting the change in her life as a good thing, not something to fear.
“Other Plans” describes her current love affair as an otherworldly force, as if it were part of a prophecy that they were to be together. As Phoebe attempts to regain any sense of control over her life, her powerful connection to Bobby smothers any idea of a plan. Unfortunately, this song never got a chance to resonate with me. It is a slow ballad that builds and builds, but is cut short by “Lost Parade”. Here the album thus far is put on display and marched towards the final few songs of the album, culminating all we have felt and seeking some tangible conclusion.
“I Can’t Wait” feels like a change in appetite for Bridgers. She is cautiously piecing herself back together with fragments of her tumultuous past and desire for self-realization. “Hyde Jekyll Hyde, finally together”. To my delight, it also features harmonies from Cameron Winter, and their voices both resonate and clash so interestingly.
“As Above So Below” reflects on present, past, and future, accompanied by a chilling bridge. “You don’t have to believe in magic. Leave it to me and I’ll make it happen”. Perhaps Phoebe is no longer the Lost Boy from the beginning, and is ready to take her future into her own hands.
“Lost Weekend (Reprise)” takes confessions from the title track and turns a new leaf. In the last line of the album, she changes “You love me and I’ll never forgive you for that” to “You love me and I’ll never let you forget”. Then the track skips, and we're left with 8 seconds of silence. There is no grand-conclusion, but in a way, we are left feeling hopeful. We don’t know what happens next, but I think that’s the point. The album is about moving on.
Lost Weekend, her most cohesive work yet, has definitely solidified Phoebe in the 3-great-album-run-club. The element of her songwriting that separates her from the rest is not only her vulnerable and confessional storytelling, but despite even her most disheartening lyrics, there is always a glimpse of optimism. In an album full of melodramatic nuance, in her final words she whispers: “We’re gonna be alright me and you”.
