All of a sudden, Boygenius is one of the bigger rock bands on the planet. This year the trio of singer-songwriters Phoebe Bridgers, Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus has graced the cover of Rolling Stone, booked a headlining concert at Madison Square Garden (which immediately sold out), and the supergroup's new record — aptly named The Record — topped the Billboard Rock charts while also going No. 1 in the U.K.
As a massive fan of all three women for years, I've been struck by a strange emotional reaction to this wild success: I'm... proud?
I grant that's an entirely ridiculous feeling to hold that's both slightly detached from reality (I don't know them, though I've interviewed them professionally) and probably at least partially some ingrained societal patriarchal hang-up. But it's also the inverse of that acidic brand of hipster gatekeeping that often hangs like a toxic cloud over music fandom. The sense of vicarious joy from seeing them thrive comes because I've been supporting these women's individual careers for longer than most and — much more importantly — their gently sad songs have given me immense support in my sorrowful lows.
You know that scene in Greta Gerwig's Little Women where Bob Odenkirk surprisingly shows up as the March family patriarch on Christmas and warmly embraces his daughters, declaring: "My little women, how you've grown"?
That's basically how I feel about Boygenius.
The diminutive Julien might be the runt of the litter, but she's also the one that I first came to adore. I decided to check out her gig at the Vera Project in Seattle in February 2016, and it was one of those instantly blown-away moments. There were only maybe a dozen people in the all-ages safe haven, but Julien's solo set was completely captivating — displaying the contemplative calm and devastating lyricism that would become her trademark while playing songs from her stunning debut LP, Sprained Ankle. By the time she returned to the Vera that October, the smattering of attendees had become a sold-out throng of folks, yet everyone in the room remained silent throughout the set. It was a magical, respectful serenity and a testament to Julien's captivating presence. The next year I trekked from Seattle to my hometown of Billings, Montana, just to see her open an arena show for Paramore (I thought it would be very weird but kinda great — which it was). Even as she's grown past her solo sound on her subsequent great albums — Turn Out the Lights and Little Oblivions — she's still a dynamo of sadness who can shine in any setting.
Phoebe was a chance discovery that blossomed into unquestionable fandom. I stumbled across her in a church in Austin at the tail end of South By Southwest in 2017, months before releasing her debut album that began her buzzy ascent. Amid a crowd of maybe a couple dozen, I didn't then fully grasp her prowess. When said album — Stranger in the Alps — dropped, it almost immediately established her as the leading bummer poet voice in the realm of millennial angst. With a songwriting vision far beyond her years, Stranger managed to make aimless existential depression sound catchy in a refreshing manner. When her follow-up LP Punisher arrived a few months into COVID lockdown, even a fervent supporter like myself couldn't have predicted how huge it would become. It turned Phoebe into a legit celebrity by giving an empathetic emotional outlet for disillusioned young adults in a time when everything about the world felt morbidly surreal.
Lucy was the last to hit my sweet spot, but once she clicks, it's impossible to shake the calm-and-composed, cynical-but-daydreaming nature of her rich contralto. While most music fanatics really took notice of her when she released her 2018 sophomore record Historian (with the modern indie rock epic "Night Shift" serving up a knockout), her songcraft bloomed into even more grandeur on 2021's Home Video, a heart-wrenching collection of queer coming-of-age tunes that hit with a wallop. (I also once got her dad into a Boygenius show when a list screw-up left him without a ticket... so that's a fun wrinkle.)
When it was initially announced that Julien, Phoebe and Lucy were teaming up, the chance of them making subpar music together was essentially zero. But Boygenius being amazing out of the gate still felt overwhelming. The band's 2018 self-titled debut EP is one of the tightest collections of songs released in the past decade with its blend of pitch-perfect folk harmonies layered on an indie-rock foundation. It's really hard to express how borderline impossible it is to have such instant musical chemistry. You can't fake the flow found on tunes like "Bite the Hand" and "Ketchum, ID." Over the course of six gorgeous and detail-rich songs, the trio's vocals and melancholy meshed in a way that felt both effortless and timeless, while somehow always remaining balanced — no one gets lost in the shuffle, and none of the three try to be the "star" of the group. It's clear these three fully check their egos at the door when it's time to be a band.
That showed through when Boygenius stopped for a gig at the Moore Theater in Seattle in 2018. It was a euphoric musical marathon: Lucy, Phoebe and Julien all played full sets of their own before coming together to play every song off that debut EP. It's easily one of the best shows I've ever attended — and I attend a lot — a dazzling gem that I'll keep as a treasure in my memory's chest until my fading days.
It took awhile for Boygenius to reconvene — a few little things like COVID and Phoebe absolutely blowing up and becoming a star will do that — but the ladies didn't lose their fastball or graceful sonic connection in the time away. The Record expands on their knack for seamlessly flowing in and out of one another's sonic spaces with abundant and enriching elegance. The songwriting is rich in small, emotionally resonant details, be it via Phoebe's sad contemplative meditations ("Emily I'm Sorry"), Julien's hollering rock ("$20"), Lucy's ice-cold love tunes ("True Blue") or one of the tracks where they split the lead vocal duties ("Cool About It"). The album is a testament to the tenderness of organic, creative camaraderie.
That all leads to Boygenius' headlining show this weekend at the Gorge (with A+ support from Carly Rae Jepsen and Illuminati Hotties). It's one of the few shows on the band's slate that's yet to sell out, and it's impossible to think of a better setting to first experience the songs of The Record live. It's a place where I've seen majestic sets from Julien and Phoebe at past Sasquatch! Festivals, but those seem merely like distant cherished memories when I see how far Boygenius has come both as individuals and as a collective.
"My queer little musical women, how you've grown..." ♦
Boygenius, Carly Rae Jepsen, Illuminati Hotties • Sat, July 29 at 8 pm • $50-$70 • All ages • Gorge Amphitheatre • 754 Silica Rd. NW, George • livenation.com
