Home Video (2021) – Lucy Dacus

Matador, 2021

Lucy Dacus is feeling nostalgic. Very nostalgic.

The Richmond, Virginia born indie rock icon’s third studio album is soaked—dripping—in nostalgic storytelling. Not only does Dacus reminisce on memories from her youth, she takes the listener with her on a trip down memory lane. No detail is skipped over and every emotion is explored to the point that the record becomes an overly self-indulgent memoir.

Yes, there are overarching themes in the album that listeners could relate to, but at the same time, Dacus is so thorough in her storytelling that tracks often end up being diluted into distant stories of someone else’s life. It’s refreshing that Lucy Dacus stays true to her stories, but it’s unfortunate that for the most part, these stories fall just outside the sweet spots of narrative songwriting. Many tracks are too specific to be understandable, nor fantasied enough to be daydreamt about.

The themes Dacus tries to convey do get through though, but as tracks go on, it’s easy to glaze past the lyrics once you understand the theme. It’s like knowing exactly what happens in a novel, but then reading every line anyways.

Take the second track on the record, “Christine”, for example. This pretty and dreamy ballad is about Dacus’ friend who has a boyfriend that doesn’t treat her right. The theme comes across by the chorus, but then the second verse just gets wildly specific to this friendship and can alienate the listener. It’s a nice track with quality instrumentation and structure, and Dacus’ vocals are clear and sweet. It is, however, the start of the trend of overly-specific songwriting on Home Video.

Dacus does manage to find balance at points of the record. The opener “Hot & Heavy” is a fun and rocking tune about seeing a past lover, and the memories that flood into your mind when you see them. Dacus is descriptive and explicit in her recollection, but general enough that the lyrics don’t fly past you. The second single off the record is a great opener. It’s exciting, relatable, and pulls you in early. All the instrumentation is on point here and the instrumental interlude is short, but real creative.

Throughout the record, Dacus uses a variety of vocal effects. Vocal tracks are layered on top of each other on multiple tracks to create a literal cloned feeling—like the words are so important they had to be said twice and at the same time. On “VBS”, the layered vocals are also slightly delayed for an almost vintage echoed effect. It’s definitely cool and certainly fits with the distorted guitars.

“Partner in Crime” features heavy auto-tune which is a bit jarring for indie rock. Thematically, I guess it fits with the idea of lying about being someone you really aren’t to impress someone else. Sonically, it’s just super weird and detracts from what would be an otherwise pretty good track. The structure and melodies of “Partner in Crime” are quite nonlinear and non-repetitive which is a breath of fresh air, so it’s a shame the auto-tuned vocals detract from the song as much as they do.

Lucy Dacus is in her best form in the closing three tracks. “Brando” is upbeat and cute. The production is bright and imaginative, and makes you feel like you’re running through a memory. Here, Dacus sings about a friend she had when she was younger who thought he knew everything about her. The sunny production juxtaposed with the critical lyrics give the song a snarky and “told you so” vibe.

Indie supergroup, boygenius, are reunited on “Please Stay”. This feels very much like a sister song to Phoebe Bridgers’ “Graceland Too”. Both tracks have the premise of telling a friend their life is worth living, boygenius harmonies, penultimate positions in their respective albums, and simple, but effective production. The comparison is not to say “Please Stay” is an attempt at “Graceland Too”, but rather both songs are fantastic in their own right and boygenius members know how to make some real good tunes.

The closer “Triple Dog Dare” is an interesting one. It’s both extremely detailed, but also imaginative enough to paint a story in your mind. The track starts as a soft ballad, but slowly evolves into a heavy indie rock tune with distorted guitars, distorted Dacus vocals, and a crowd of harmonies before dropping back into a soft ballad. Like a bell curve, but the descent is a drop off a cliff rather than a slow decline.

Home Video is a nostalgic ode to Lucy Dacus’ youth. Like anything nostalgic, there are hits and misses and this record is no different. There are moments where Dacus sings of stories only her and at most a handful of people would connect to. There are also moments where she sings of experiences that most people could relate to, or experiences so vivid that anyone could picture in their head.

Dacus explores a few different sounds and sonic approaches on this record that aren’t all bullseyes either. The vocals on the record are laced with effects, but anything beyond layering and slight delay is distracting.

I appreciate the overarching theme of nostalgia and Dacus’ extremely personal approach to the record, but overall she’s best on Home Video when she either keeps it simple and slow or goes heavy and rocking. Everything in between is muddy and comes with an air of hesitancy.

Favourite tracks: Hot & Heavy, Cartwheel, Brando, Please Stay, Triple Dog Dare