Phoebe Bridges ‘Punisher’: Album Review – Variety

Phoebe Bridger has a high, intelligent, beautiful voice that often disguises intense, anxious or budget things in the songs she sings. Combined with the soft-focus production in most of his songs, it almost shuts down – and if you just listen to it half-heartedly, you won’t realize that a song is told from the point of view of a murderer (or his) last breath, to his real-life displaced father. A reprimand or twice his age directed towards the young ex-counselor-lover. (Truth be told, you don’t know the last two facts without reading the Bridgers profile at social media distance in New Yorker)) He’s straightforward without being blunt; His abrupt lyrical jobs often flash before you process him instantly, like seeing someone you know – and maybe a little mad from a cab.

A great lyricist and serial collaborator two and a half years after Bridgers’ groundbreaking debut album, “Alps in Stranger”, he dropped an impressive heavy, curiously crossbow steels and a third of Nash-Boyzenias as well as an EP with his colleague Becky’s Felice Supergroup “; Better Olivian Community Center has released an album with Connor Obrest, founder of Bright Eyes; Guitarist Christian Lee made an album for Hutson; Guessing about the new 1975 album and more. At a time when rock music – at least, traditional theatrical rock music is gaining popularity and relevance, and fans and critics tend to survey the landscape with Shrug, Bridgers and his collaborators are a rare place to shine: although their music may not be a turn-pumping fan. Not to be brought to the stadiums anytime soon (epidemic or not), she has sued the future woman in terms of guitar-based indie rock for that premise.

The path to “Punisher”, the name that came from the musician for the overly attentive fan, has also been widened by the proliferation of the founding press which has made Pasadena Native as a song as directly as a person. These songs can be snapshots of relationships (“After a while you fell silent / and I became mean”) or everyday comic comments (“I swear I’m not angry, it’s just my face”). He may be suddenly smiling (“It’s 90 in Memphis … [she] Perhaps think of Elvis “), rhyme with” Vegetable “” missionary “or fit with an offhand universal truth (” It’s amazing how much you can say when you don’t know what you’re saying “). But one of the most enduring lines on the new album Law “You had to go / I know, I know, I know.”

Yet the thing that clearly shows the opposite and subtle “punisher” as a major breakthrough is his perennial appeal: he has Elliott Smith and Emo Rock in his own youth; The Laurel Canyon singer-songwriter was raised above him; Even General X-era Liz Fair / Belly splashes LT-Rock. The song features almost all the sharp edges of the album: the music with guitars and keyboards is often fuzzy and imprinted that is heavily treated with effects that can be heard with the rest of the world, the voice is clouded and goes away again and often with little or no percussion. No. Bridgers sing in a reluctant voice, not afraid to hang a straight line (“I know the end”) or to sing an ambitious tune (“Savior Complex”). Still intelligent can be worn thin, so Bridgers and co-producers Tony Berg and Ethan Gruska String (“Xavier Complex”), an Obert Duet (“Halloween”) and a Nashville-flavored mini-reunion “Graceland Too” Capo’s acoustic guitar and country luminary have Sara Watkins Fidel and it could be a highwoman song (it’s sure any LT-country fan is chanting the slogan for Bozenias’ country album).

And yet in the final moments of the final track, “I know the end,” the composers shout so many sounds – horns, crashing symbols, guitar responses, a chorus screaming, “The end is near!”, Even a shout – it’s as if he crashed the joke of the previous 10 songs Trying to. But then it all fades, and the only word left is Bridgers wailing and laughing quietly that she must know the album, it’s the best one of the year.