From the first track of her sophomore album, Punisher, it’s clear Phoebe Bridgers opened herself up completely for this round of writing. On “DVD Menu,” a haunting introduction to the next 37 minutes, a menacing guitar line is intertwined with a dirge-esque violin melody, one that will come back, a little different, and a lot stronger, in the album’s closer. While her debut, Stranger in the Alps, featured a similar instrumental track in “Smoke Signals (Reprise)”, “DVD Menu” tugs harder, already bringing to mind the emotions that require more grappling.
Punisher is the perfect companion for all the trauma the first half of 2020 has caused. The thought of “everything” can feel all consuming, enflaming, and a trigger for a rush of anger and anxiety. “Everything” has morphed from one issue of humanity to another, testing our collective patience. On “I See You,” Bridgers sings, “I hate your mom / I hate it when she opens her mouth / It’s amazing to me / How much you can say / When you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Confronting and honest, Bridgers offers respite for everyone attempting to challenge the previous generation.
This album finds a more elevated production approach, Bridgers experimenting more with her musical style than on Stranger in the Alps. While Stranger painted a sparse, barren musical palette, Punisher offers a louder, fuller soundscape to distract from the unpleasant parts of life. “Savior Complex” sounds, instrumentally and melodically, like the happiest song she’s written. Of course, the lyrics contradict this mood, but it’s easy to overlook that amidst swirling violins and Bridgers’ warm vocals. Even on the darkest songs, like “Moon Song” (which references the death of Eric Clapton’s baby), there are little details and embellishments that trick us into feeling happy, like the twangy guitars adding a wave of nostalgia as she sings, “So I’ll wait for the next time you want me / like a dog with a bird at your door.”
Each song by Bridgers reads like a letter from a wiser, careful, and mellow pen pal. She writes like she speaks in real life– it’s realistic and believable, similar to rambling conversations with friends. Her harshest song, “I Know The End” offers a weirdly calming approach to impending doom, pulling us into the car with her as she drives past “a slaughterhouse, an outlet mall,” and other bleak facets seen from an American highway. As she ends the song with her own solo whisper-screaming, this vulnerable noise feels like a laugh in the wake of the apocalypse.
Sometimes, her responses to journalists don’t sound far off from her own lyrics — in a recent interview with Uproxx’s Steven Hyden, Bridgers added, “I was talking to a friend the other day about what separates the millennial generation from other generations, and for the most part, we’re the first generation to not really be living for the next generation. So many people fought for a better world before us, like our parents. And now we’re just fighting to even stay alive.” While it may not have been intentional, Punisher carries this theme of writing for the present, and living only for what the next week might bring, if it brings anything at all. Bridgers’ lyrics focus on the little things that nag and keep us up at night, tackling those inner monologues first before thinking long term.
The first time I heard Punisher, I felt like I got hit by a ton of bricks. So, wanting to be a Punisher myself, I let the album start a second time. And then, a third time — on this round, I found myself crying as the roars and raucous of “I Know The End” came to fruition. Punisher is an album to lean on, an album to play over and over again, until you’ve cried out your deepest fears, worries, and anxieties.