Six years can feel like a lifetime, especially in the fast-moving world of music. For American singer-songwriter Phoebe Bridgers, the period since her acclaimed 2020 album Punisher has been a whirlwind of highs and lows. There were the triumphs of touring and winning multiple Grammys with the supergroup Boygenius, alongside the deep personal losses of her father's death and the end of her engagement to actor Paul Mescal. Now, she's channelled all of that into her third solo record, Lost Weekend, a work that feels both intensely personal and universally resonant.
The album's title hints at a period of disorientation and lost time, a nod to Charles Jackson's 1944 novel and its famous film adaptation by Billy Wilder. But rather than escaping into oblivion, Bridgers confronts her demons head-on. The result is a reckoning with grief, loss, and the dizzying rush of new love, all wrapped in her signature blend of indie folk and subtle electronic textures.
A journey through grief and renewal
The opening track, 'The Outside', sets a moody tone with Bridgers using a vocoder to create a robotic, almost Bon Iver-like delivery. The lyrics are stark: “Crying in a suit and tie / But you should see the other guy.” It's a haunting reference to her father, and the song explores dissociation, both from personal loss and the pressures of fame. This theme recurs on tracks like 'Liberty Tree' and 'I Can't Wait', where she examines the strange experience of living under the spotlight while processing private pain.
Lead single 'Lost Boys' is a pop confession about her attraction to a certain type of man. The storytelling is sharp and emotionally complex, as she sings about a memory from East Berlin: “That one time in East Berlin / When you threw a tantrum with a 57 and broke a rib / You told me you wished you were dead / But I still don't believe that.” It's a verse that captures the album's blend of bleak humour and raw honesty.
One of the early standouts is 'Kill Me', a ballad that captures the whirlwind of falling in love. The song's finale is particularly striking: a silent pause after Bridgers sings “Wait” before a crescendo that sends shivers down the spine. It's a moment of pure musical drama.
Then comes 'The Governor's Waltz', a track that has already sparked fan speculation. With lines like “And she can pretend to be me / Since she took my place in my bed on that stage,” many hear a direct reference to Mescal's new relationship with Gracie Abrams. But the song never feels vindictive. Instead, it's a poignant reflection on identity and loss, with Bridgers describing herself as “the belle of the governor’s ball” yet “hiding in the bathroom like Shelley Duvall.”
Bo Burnham, Bridgers' current partner, is a significant presence on the album, co-writing seven of its sixteen tracks. The song 'Bobby' is an upbeat folk gem with evocative lyrics: “Now I sleep in your shirts, and you live in my house / You sing in the shower, I talk to myself / We've got stars on the ceiling and clothes on the floor.” It's a tender, intimate portrait of domesticity, complete with a cheeky punchline.
The title track, 'Lost Weekend', is a hypnotic meditation on the past and present. Bridgers oscillates between memories and current feelings, singing “I'm supposed to be married, but I called it off” and “I've been known to throw a tantrum when things are not the way I imagine them.” The song ends with a devastatingly delivered line: “You know me, and I'll never forgive you for that.” This sentiment is echoed in the album closer, 'Lost Weekend (Reprise)', which concludes with “You love me, and I won't ever let you forget, not yet.”
Other highlights include the catchy country-infused 'Haunted', featuring backing vocals from Boygenius bandmates Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker; the chilling 'Still Standing', which tackles trauma and domestic violence; and the quietly poignant 'Never Going Back!', which ends with a voicemail recording from Bridgers' late father.
The funereal yet oddly sweet 'Other Plans' describes someone “shaking like a final girl” and is one of her most beautiful songs to date. It leads seamlessly into the reprise, which ties the album together thematically. Lost Weekend is an ambitiously crafted blend of indie folk and synth bursts, filled with gut-punch emotion and droll, candid revelations. It's a remarkable achievement, and a strong contender for album of the year.
