Ever since her chart-topping success with boygenius in 2023, Phoebe Bridgers has been radio silent. After three long years, however, she’s finally made her triumphant return, releasing her third studio album, “Lost Weekend,” on Aug. 14.
Although Bridgers never publicized the reason for her hiatus, it coincided with various developments in her personal life, from processing the death of her father to her blossoming romance with comedian and musician Bo Burnham. Across 16 tracks, “Lost Weekend” chronicles these developments, juxtaposing the grief and anxiety of loss with the joy and comfort of love. With the help of producers Alex G and Jack Antonoff, this album immerses itself in the genres of folktronica and ambient pop, resembling Bridgers’ 2022 single “Sidelines.”
Bridgers immediately frames the theme of loss with track one, “The Outside.” Like many songs on the album, this track paints a vivid scene: she is watching her father be carried away in a casket while contemplating his history with alcoholism.
“One more time for old time’s sake,” Bridgers sings, her voice drenched in vocoder. “I’ll watch him get carried away / Fist through the drywall.”
Rather than conveying grief, these lyrics portray Bridgers’ rumination, struggling to move past her father’s alcoholism. Before she can accept and mourn her father’s death, she must unpack how his addiction and violent tendencies influenced her perception of him. Until then, her feelings are left unresolved, reflected by the ironic nature of the lyrics and their stoic delivery.
At the same time, “The Outside” exemplifies the more electronic, synth-infused sound of “Lost Weekend.” This track’s aforementioned vocoder distorts Bridgers’ vocals, creating an abrasive, robotic tone that perfectly captures her emotional detachment and dissociation. While this type of production fits the tone and themes of the album, it might be off-putting at first for fans who prefer the chamber folk and indie rock arrangements from 2020’s “Punisher.”
No matter what, though, fans are sure to enjoy this album’s lead single, “Lost Boys.” This song is essentially the “Kyoto” of “Lost Weekend,” disguising somber lyrics with an upbeat, indie rock instrumental — one of few on the album. Thematically, the song builds off Bridgers’ encounter with loss, attempting to find escapism.
Through the chorus’ titular “lost boy” motif, Bridgers evokes the idea of Peter Pan syndrome — a desire to cling to youth, ignoring adult responsibilities. The verses function as isolated vignettes, focusing on different subjects, notably her father and a past relationship. Both men are portrayed as emotionally immature and reckless, placing little value on their lives — they are the lost boys, who never grow up and never want to develop as people.
“This machine is killing me,” Bridgers sings in the pre-chorus. “I pretended it was make-believe.”
Although vague, the image of the “machine” conveys how dealing with these self-sabotaging men is emotionally exhausting; it’s “killing” Bridgers. When she pretends to play “make-believe,” she’s expressing her own version of the lost boy mindset. To her, it means retreating to a place of childlike innocence, longing for a time where she’d be naive to the danger these men put themselves in — a time where death might seem less scary.
Bridgers continues the narrative about her father in “Still Standing,” one of the most emotional tracks on the album. As much as Bridgers wants to escape her grief by regressing to childlike innocence, this song crumbles her fantasy; her trauma with her father is inseparable from her adolescence.
“But I am still standing / At the top of the stairs, turning red,” Bridgers sings in the first chorus. “Pound for pound in a prom dress / You tried to make me afraid.”
Prom can be a hallmark of adolescence, a joyous celebration that marks a child’s transition into adulthood. Yet, Bridgers’ memory of this milestone is tainted with anger. Whether “pound for pound” is a covert reference to physical abuse or not, one thing is for sure: the moment is soured by her father’s attempt to instill fear in her, and she can’t find comfort in it.
“I can’t imagine you dead / But you are every day,” Bridgers sings, solemnly subverting the depressing tone of the prior chorus. “Thank you for everything.”
Having confronted their contentious relationship, Bridgers is finally able to move past the dissociation introduced in “The Outside” and express her sorrow. She still misses her father, even though he may have hurt her. When she thanks him, she’s not forgiving his actions but rather acknowledging that they were pivotal to shaping the headstrong woman she is today.
Bridgers is at her best when she’s dissecting darker emotions, and this album’s exploration of loss is no different. Although she certainly maintains her melancholic reputation, the simultaneous focus on love in “Lost Weekend” adds some much-needed levity to her discography. In “Kill Me,” she defies all-consuming grief, finding revitalized strength in her newfound love for Burnham. In “Liberty Tree,” this love gives Bridgers the power to deconstruct her pessimistic attitude and start looking back at her past with joy.
While plenty of the love-centric tracks on the album are still charged with feelings of anxiety and sadness, “Bobby” is the exception — it’s a love letter to Burnham, and it’s an immediate standout. Like “Lost Boys,” it’s one of few indie rock songs on the album, sporting production that perfectly encapsulates Bridgers’ intense, profound love for her partner.
Amidst dark humor and dirty jokes, Bridgers is sure to warm hearts by the end of the song, singing, “What are you doing for the rest of my life, Bobby?”
The song may be lyrically simple, but it makes up for that in charm — it’s a joy to see an artist as emotionally vulnerable as Bridgers share her thoughts in the form of unfiltered adoration rather than despair. Be sure to listen closely for the quiet, automated phone call at the end of the song, as it perfectly conveys the depth of Bridgers’ love.
The album’s soaring penultimate track, “As Above,” tactfully joins the themes of loss and love. Its titular “As above, so below” chorus plays off the occultist belief that the otherworldly afterlife and everyday life mirror one another.
“Whatever happens after, it doesn’t matter,” Bridgers sings, building intensity. “You won’t have to believe in magic / Leave it to me and I’ll make it happen.”
Ultimately, Bridgers’ rejection of “whatever happens after” functions as a rejection of death and subsequent grief; there is no need to fear death and its emotional toll when she has love in her life to comfort her through it. In a positive twist on “Moon Song,” Bridgers belts the promise to do anything for her partner, conveying her sheer will to cherish them by pushing her vocals to their absolute limit.
Intimate as ever, Bridgers’ songwriting on “Lost Weekend” strikes the perfect balance between her beloved lyrical lamentation and her newfound love. It might not sound like “Punisher,” but this album is sure to keep fans satisfied throughout her next hiatus all the same.
Travis Foley is an Arts & Entertainment Assistant Editor. He can be reached at tdfoley@uci.edu
Edited by Avani Kumar and Geneses Navarro.
