The supergroup’s anatomy has a rocky past, often contracted for commercial reasons or as a desperate attempt to revitalize a stagnant legacy. That the individual parts of boygenius are arguably better known as a trio tells a different story, one of unbreakable friendship and deep-rooted mutual respect that has quickly become the lifeblood of working together. To touch on an inevitable cliché, they’re better for each other.
Given their status as top three songwriters in the world, it’s no easy feat. They share a strong honesty that has encouraged a crossover of their respective fanbases, but each exhibits distinctive nuances that are effortlessly brought to the table. Julien Baker’s self-critical charm resonates, as does Lucy Dacus’ tougher tone and quick-witted phrasing. Phoebe Bridgers – away from Boygenius, the biggest name in the line-up, but perfectly aligned here – brings her dense blend of tenderness and fury. The screams that brought 2020’s “Punisher” to a crashing close resound on “Satanist” and “$20” — the latter one of boygenius’ most powerful tracks to date.
‘the record’ never shy away from being a sum of these parts, with their love for each other’s craft helping to resist the temptation to reinvent the wheel. There are songs that are clearly assigned to one of their strengths; “True Blue” continues the themes of Lucy’s “Home Video”, “Anti-Curse” highlights the full band outing of Julien’s “Little Oblivions” and “Letter To An Old Poet” unfolds in a way like only Phoebe could do. But even in those moments, it’s clear that all three are being pushed beyond their usual creative comfort zones.
Phoebe speaks of “Emily I’m Sorry” being the moment Boygenius was revived, written as a solo track but destined in her mind for “the record”. It shows the power of the album’s combined voice, not only in the obviously beautiful harmonies, but also in the playful instrumental and lyrical nods. The words shift from sincere to funny in the blink of an eye, some like “Leonard Cohen,” a self-referential inside joke while simultaneously commenting on male singer-songwriter tropes. The track plays without a chorus, something that probably none of the boygenius components would have written on their own.
Here the trio sound more confident than ever, willing to sit outside of their respective norms, putting their unity first while never shying from their shared experiences in lyrics and sound. On the standout “Not Strong Enough,” the trio comes together with perfect precision, striking the balance between lyrical poignancy and a long-standing desire to relate to Sheryl Crow. It’s a luminous moment in a sound of friendship that doesn’t take itself too seriously but is built on an unwavering admiration for every facet of their being.