Somewhere under the ever-expanding umbrella of “Indie rock” there exists a set of musicians making a certain type of music. The initial impulse is to term it “sad” music, but that would be omitting some of the most important parts of these songs. Virginian singer-songwriter Lucy Dacus is one such artist, finding herself in good company in recent years among the likes of Mitski, Julien Baker, Angel Olsen, and numerous others weaving these incredibly moving albums that gorgeously and often frankly cover vast swathes of human emotion. After a promising debut in 2016, Dacus rose to prominence even further in 2018 with the release of her lauded sophomore LP Historian, and as part of Boygenius, the supergroup she formed with Baker and LA artist Phoebe Bridgers for a late-year EP.
While her songs often contain elements of the delicate and melancholy, anchored by her warm, effortless vocals, Dacus brought ferocity to match for her performance at the Columbus Theatre in Providence. Historian, which formed the basis for much of the night’s show, is a testament not only to the pains of life, but to perseverance – there’s breakup songs, losses of faith, and staring down mortality in the face. The pain isn’t the main character; it’s simply the jumping-off point. It’s an inspirational record, and though the Columbus is a seated venue, the crowd couldn’t contain themselves for long, with the front row rising early on in the set and the rest of the audience a few moments later as the sounds of ‘Nonbeliever’ filled the theatre all the way to its ceiling frescoes.
After opening with a solo rendition of a new song tentatively titled ‘Fool’s Gold’, Dacus was joined by her band for the rest of the set. Despite her poised demeanor, Dacus knows how to make a barn-burner, with she and guitarist Jacob Blizard conjuring the huge riffs that feature in songs like ‘Night Shift’ and the bluesy epic ‘Timefighter’, the former featuring an absolute vocal tour-de-force by Dacus in its final minutes, the gentle timbre of her voice disappearing into a roar of defiance. And despite the oft-somber subject matter, the band keeps a cheery attitude, speaking fondly of their tour mates Mal Blum and Fenne Lily. Bassist Dominic Angelella, smile poking out from beneath his long hair, was bounding around stage, kicking out his legs in typical rockstar fashion as he and drummer Ricardo Lagomasino filled out the rhythm section.
“Was I most complete at the beginning, or the bow?” asks Dacus as she closes the main set with the final song of the record, ‘Historians’. It’s a spare, vocal-centric track that sees Dacus waxing fatalistic, pondering a future that will inevitably include loss. Thematically it recalls songs like Andrew Bird’s ‘Sifters’ or Mitski’s “Two Slow Dancers’, which also ponder the haphazard role timing plays in relationships, which is fertile conceptual ground that Dacus walks beautifully. As the title suggests, Historians is a record preoccupied with the passage of time. Be it changing shifts to avoid the looming shadow of an ex to whom no one can compare, or making peace with your mortality, it’s clear that Lucy Dacus has reckoned with time in its many facets and not let it grind her down, which is in itself admirable, and has also spawned one of the finest albums of 2018.
Returning to the stage solo after a short encore break, Dacus treated the audience to one final song, a new one she prefaced in a joking tone by urging those who wanted to end on a happier note to leave now. As-yet-untitled and unrecorded, her protagonist watches, restrained, as a girlfriend reunites with an absent father and Dacus ponders violence against the man who, despite sharing his daughter’s eyes, has caused her so much pain. It’s a heartbreaking thought, but carries her trademark sense of optimism in the end, positing that the family one chooses is far more important than the one they’re born into. If this was a small peek into the content of Dacus’ next LP, it’s sure to be just as poignant and defiantly hopeful as the last.
Review and photos by Collin Heroux
