‘the rest’ EP Review: boygenius returns for an encore

Complementing and contrasting their aptitude for rock they displayed on their recent album, boygenius’s new EP “the rest” is a curation of four “spacey” songs that showcase the softer side of this unstoppable musical partnership.

boygenius is an indie-rock supergroup composed of Lucy Dacus, Julien Baker, and Phoebe Bridgers. A capstone to their much-anticipated first full album, “the record,” released just over six months ago, their surprise EP, “the rest,” was announced during the group's show at Boston’s MGM Music Hall on Sept. 25, accompanied by a performance of the first track, “Black Hole.”

On this EP the group “veered away from their folkier roots on the record,” Bridgers said in an interview with the Recording Academy. Dacus also described the songs as having a “spacey, eerie quality about them.”

“I don’t think they lack optimism, but they’re a little more focused on fear and unsteadiness,” Dacus said.

“Black Hole” is a variation on the group’s past formula of piercing vocals over soft acoustics. This time, Baker’s vocals come in over a repetitive synth beat — a new exploration of electronic sounds and production not previously seen in their discography. It complements and elevates the song, showcasing the wide range of possibilities left open for the band. The song builds into a melodic net of soothing beats and driving drums, and the three artists almost chant the rest of the lyrics together. The eerie energy, slow but dynamic pace, and focus on vocal narrative sets a pattern that continues for the rest of the EP: This is the group’s home field, a tried and true niche that characterizes much of their past work, but never gets old.

“Afraid of Heights,” the ordinal song on the EP, is a turned cheek to unnecessary risk-taking, as Dacus speaks directly to someone whose recklessness is at odds with her caution. This sense of difference is reflected in the musical construction: An almost cheery acoustic tone contrasts the near-morbid farwell enclosed in the song, echoing a similar tension in Dacus’ 2021 solo song “Going, Going, Gone.” It works even better in this updated context, as the soft melodies and the echoes heighten each side of the contract, respectively. Dacus sings about her caution in life — “I never rode a motorcycle / I've never smoked a cigarette / I wanna live a vibrant life / But I wanna die a boring death” — and the tension it causes — “I know I was a disappointment / Know you wanted me to take a risk.” With the rockstar energy the group projected in both the music of “the record” (just listen to “Satanist”) and its performance on stage, the vulnerability and wariness of “Afraid of Heights” is an effective and important grounding touchpoint for the artists, whose lyrical relatability is a key component of their adoration and success.

The first note of the ordinal song, “Voyager,” grabs the listener with syrupy hands, as the three women strike their classic piercing harmonies on a soft note before Bridgers goes into her first verse. For this track, the simple strumming is accompanied not by soft electronic tones, but by the even softer, sweeter notes of Dacus and Baker’s backing vocals, at times pillowy, at times haunting. It is the perfect landscape for Bridgers’ voice to shine. In this song, she sings about a past relationship and the vulnerability of being freshly alone: “Walkin' alone in the city / Makes me feel like a man on the moon / Every small step I took was so easy / But I never imagined a dot quite as pale or as blue.” Bridgers alludes to a phrase coined by Carl Sagan’s speech entitled “Pale Blue Dot” to illustrate the feeling of raw smallness that can come in times of isolation or loneliness. The eeriness of Bridgers’ solo voice reflects this isolation and loneliness, but the ever-present soothing backing harmonies of Dacus and Baker keep her from the edge. The song thus combines melancholy with a twinge of hope; the result is a charismatic and effective piece that is probably the lyrical powerhouse of the EP.

The meaning of “Powers,” the final song on the EP, is first revealed by Baker’s forceful strumming of the guitar at the beginning of the song, in which she almost shoves the noise off of the instrument and into the air. This tale of powerful frustration articulates itself as Baker questions whether something out of a comic book must have made her how she is: “How did it start? / Did I fall into a nuclear reactor?” Searching for an explanation about why she is a certain way — a paradigmatic frustrated exclamation of self-criticism — is reminiscent of the same motif present in the chart-topping single “Strong Enough” from “the record” — “I don't know why I am / The way I am.” The song is almost a deep dive into this one lyric, exploratory like the entire EP. Without the dynamism of tone the group showed on “the record,” the consistently acoustic and spacey vibe of “the rest” rings a little repetitive by the time “Powers” comes on, but the song is still effective within this niche.

“the rest” feels like a home video — like a curation of four mini stories to close this artistic chapter. The songs somewhat feel like tracks from the artists’ solo careers released together, perhaps more than some fans of the band would have liked; but the captivating harmonies in the backing tracks consistently display that special resonance typical to boygenius’ tracks. If “the record” was their great collaborative novel, “the rest” is a collection of endnotes, a set of further expansions and final individual explorations. The cover art, a photo taken from the same shoot as the album’s, is the three women silhouetted against a beach at dusk, their figures almost blurry against the cool tones of the ocean. “the rest” is a goodbye, for now — a spacey, October goodnight.