REVIEW: Lucy Dacus, 'Home Video'
By Ebru Yildiz / Courtesy of the artist
Being back here makes me hot in the face
Hot blood in my pulsing veins
Heavy memories weighing on my brain
Released last June, Home Video is the nostalgic, autobiographical third record from singer-songwriter Lucy Dacus. Exploring the Virginia artist’s formative years from the eyes of her adult self, she recalls memories of crushes snorting nutmeg, Bible camp, and ditching school to watch old movies. Rather than catering to relatable experiences, Home Video presents itself like a film; Dacus paints vivid, specific scenes from her youth.
The record opens with “Hot & Heavy, ” which sets the stage for the album. The song narrates the feelings of going back to a significant place and the aftermath: processing the emotions that come rushing back. The dreamy instrumentals and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia introduce the listener to the core values of the album — compassionate retrospection and honesty.
Taking inspiration from her old diaries, Dacus examines friendships, relationships and feelings contained in her past. The detailed narration of Home Video’s characters and scenarios bring a new, unique perspective to Dacus’ songwriting. In all its deep, personal anecdotes, the listener still finds space to relate, without it being the record's primary goal. Instead of vaguely narrating common experiences to garner attention, the artist explores the distinct feelings that shaped her youth. In the purest form of human connection, Dacus is simply telling her stories to anyone willing to listen.
Her honesty and lack of judgment make the listener reconsider how they view their own pasts. Where we often see a cringey version of ourselves for which we tend to take shame, Dacus sees the beauty of youth and the pure nature of a child's perspective on the world. She communicates this self-compassion by not taking her younger self too seriously, and openly recognizing her mistakes, like lying about her age to an older guy she dated. Vulnerability is the record’s greatest strength, and in Dacus’ storytelling. While her previous work dealt with the personal through existential or abstract lenses, Home Video presents the stories bare of any adult input. The artist recalls her youth with the authenticity of a time capsule and the nostalgia of looking back at photo albums.
Songs like “Cartwheel,” in which Dacus reveals the betrayal she felt as a girl once her friends started showing interest in boys, and “Partner in Crime,” in which she narrates a relationship she had as a teenager with an older guy — the same one wherein Dacus lies about her age — also have a particular confessional aspect to them. In them, Dacus isn’t afraid of describing ugly emotions like guilt and petty disappointment.
Friendship is one of the major themes of the album; Dacus presents it in all of its complexities, revealing its emotional layers through the lens of a protective friend — refusing to let her friend settle for an undeserving man, threatening to murder a deadbeat dad, or begging her friend to stay alive. With friendship at the center, having multiple collaborations just makes sense. The group vocals feature Dacus’ contemporaries — Mitski, Liza Anne, Phoebe Bridgers, Julien Baker — along with her dog, Beans, on the campfire tune “Going Going Gone.” It creates a sense of community and support, especially after the heaviness of the previous track, “Thumbs,” which deals with a friend reuniting with an absent father by promising to kill him.
The closing gem of the record, “Triple Dog Dare,” ties in together the themes of youth, friendship, queerness and shame. The song’s storytelling faithfully portrays the all too common queer experience of falling in love with a best friend. It illustrates the devastation of separation and desperation to keep the relationship alive, despite outside forces trying to pull both parties apart. Dacus viscerally narrates with emotional intensity, gradually adding challenges that cause the relationship to drift away. As reality sets in, Dacus fantasizes a hopeful ending where the two run away together. The build-up around this shift is marked by piling instrumentals that lead to a grand release — one that perfectly encapsulates the frustration and grief that comes with losing something precious.
In all its different lenses, Dacus sums up the emotional intensity of girlhood, while still considering the other factors that determined her coming of age: the intricacies of friendship and romance, the confusion of growing up queer, the guilt and shame imposed by religion and society, and the mixed feelings that surface looking back at one’s formative years. ◆
Stream Home Video now. Find tour dates, merch and more on Lucy Dacus’ website.