If you care about music—regardless of what genre or artist floats your particular boat—there's an artist (or a few) whose music stopped you in your tracks when you...
If you care about music—regardless of what genre or artist floats your particular boat—there's an artist (or a few) whose music stopped you in your tracks when you first heard it. There are those songs that—on first listen—blocked out all of your brain's innumerable other activities; the ones that make you sit back and think '.....shit.....'
For me, one of those moments occurred when I happened upon "Map on a Wall," an album track from a then-20-year-old Richmond-based singer/songwriter named Lucy Dacus. It's a hurricane of a song that more than speaks for itself; a yearning confessional that builds and explodes before returning to its tense, slow-burning beginnings in a dizzying circle.
It's the kind of undeniable, jaw-dropping song that inevitably makes the professional town criers of rock music sprint over to their pedestals and shout "This! This is the answer!" The thing is though, that Dacus never asked, or wanted any of those expectations placed on her shoulders. Her 2016 debut album, No Burden—which contained "Map on a Wall"—among other standouts like "Green Eyes, Red Face" and "Strange Torpedo"—was recorded in 20 hours, for her live guitarist's (Jacob Blizard) school project. Of course though, as soon as Dacus premiered the album's lead single and opening track, "I Don't Wanna Be Funny Anymore," on The Fader, labels of all sizes—from the biggest majors to small indies—came knocking.
Eventually, Dacus chose indie powerhouse Matador, the label that's releasing her second LP, Historian. The album is a masterclass of songwriting that confronts loss, anxiety and fear head-on, but manages to emerge as a hopeful, cathartic document of the strange, unprecedented times that we live in. Read on to see our discussion with Dacus about the new album.