Album review: Phoebe Bridgers’ ‘Punisher’
Though technically her second solo album, Phoebe Bridgers’ “Punisher” comes after two busy years of songwriting, recording and touring. Since the 2017 release of her debut album, “Stranger in the Alps,” Bridgers has released collaborative albums “Boygenuis” and “Better Oblivion Community Center,” the former with Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker and the latter with Conor Oberst.
Not a reinvention of her sound, “Punisher” is an elaboration on “Stranger in the Alps,” a sonorous expansion. The new album still feels distinctly Bridgers. It is witty and haunting and places Bridgers’ nearly apathetic voice on the foreground.
That said, she has added and refined so much in this new work. Where “Stranger in the Alps” was written through low points in her life, and listens similarly, “Punisher” can be even jovial at times – although it’s never that simple.
Her sound has become far bolder, carving out a spot in indie music’s vast landscape that is entirely her own, even more her own than previously. The tracks that make up “Punisher” are composed of anywhere from a guitar, a bass and her voice to a symphony of horns, strings, drums, electric guitar and – yes – wailing. In essence, there is a lot going on here.
Bridgers’ lyrics are consistent. Images fall discretely before the listener, simple. In “Graceland Too,” she sings, “So we spent what was left of our serotonin / To chew on our cheeks and stare at the moon / Said she knows she’ll live through it to get to this moment / Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor in my room.”
It is not that she provides details, but that her lyrics are evocative in their simplicity. They seem to tumble and land, unshakable, frank and direct. That directness masks remarkable depth. The profundity of her writing is, on the surface, easily understandable. But further listens and close attention will – as with a great novel – always uncover a new understanding and her masterful craft.
“Punisher” is subtly funny. Accompanying her concern for topics of immense weight – direction, personality, love’s impact and more – are moments of humor. Bridgers will catch one taking her very seriously with a subtly funny line, and if too caught up in one’s conception of her seriousness, the moment will pass by.
The album opens with “DVD Menu.” The word “haunting” might be easy to overuse with Bridgers’ music, but here it is exact. Like the title indicates, it’s a cleverly designed moment of suspension before the album emerges in its full form.
“Garden Song,” a previously available single, is the first track, and from the moment it begins, with the setup of “DVD Menu,” the album has momentum. “Garden Song” highlights Bridgers’ vocals with a guitar line and deep backup singing. It’s nostalgic, bittersweet and vivid.
Its toned-down palette sets up a wonderful juxtaposition with the upbeat “Kyoto” (also released), which follows. “Kyoto” is addressed to a problematic father figure. Bridgers’ lyric writing is at its boldest, its most blunt, with lines like “I’m gonna kill you / if you don’t beat me to it” and “Guess I lied / I’m a liar / Who lies / ‘Cause I’m a liar.”
The title track is an open letter to Elliot Smith. Bridgers lives in the same neighborhood as Smith did, and the song explores the relationship between fan and artist from both sides. Of anything on the album, “Punisher” most resembles Bridgers’ previous work. However, it is still distinctly new.
The midpoint of the album, “Chinese Satellite,” is Bridgers’ lyrical expression at its peak. A vibrant demonstration of her compositional skills, she builds from a quick and punctual guitar line into violins and then a panoply of sounds. It is constantly shimmering with emotion and beauty, while the lyrics convey an unlabeled feeling, but one which the song explains precisely. It is ever so near to a loss of emotional control, but in being so near it achieves a stellar sensation.
“Savior Complex” evolves the refrain “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine” in a slow-moving, ethereal ballad. The previously released “I See You” raises the tempo in parallel with “Kyoto” and begins to draw you close to the end of the album. “Graceland Too” stands out for the addition of Memphis twang and “Boygenuis” backup vocals.
The closing track, “I Know the End,” is a climatic buildup toward the aforementioned wails, which, despite being a little shocking, represent the most beautiful moment of the album. An exploding recognition of apocalypse, it is chilling, unsettling and huge.
“Punisher” is a difficult album to encapsulate. It is brilliant, a truly rare work of lyrical and compositional genius. It grabs the tension Bridgers sees in life and drags it to the surface. It is coherent but diverse, harmonious but streaked with moments of wonderful dissonance.