

In the last verse, the protective mother is grieving, but she’s also relieved that nothing worse can happen. The group vocal at the end is like a search party. It’s left unclear whether they succeed or die at sea. The song focuses on our connection, her mother being very protective, and at the end of the song there’s a fictionalized alternate ending where they steal a boat and run away. She was Catholic and a psychic and would tell my friend, “You are in imminent danger if you go over to Lucy’s house.” So our relationship faltered because we were kept from each other. But her mom saw what was going on in a way that I didn’t. After Fogelbergs death from prostate cancer in 2007, the woman he wrote the song about came forward with her story. He was visiting family back home in Peoria, Illinois in the mid-70s when he ran into an old girlfriend at a convenience store. We had a super tight friendship, and were probably a little bit in love. Songfacts®: As Fogelberg told it on his official website, the song is totally autobiographical.

The relationship at the center of it was my freshman year of high school, though I visualize the characters in the song as younger. How did you interpret this incident at the time?

Kelly plans to tell Jay to back off but then witnesses someone harassing her at. This song describes the blossoming of a young queer romance between you and a friend. They learn to live as a fami After Erin left the unit a month ago jay. The memories aren’t always rosy, but Dacus extends kindness to her younger self: “I can’t undo what I’ve done, and I wouldn’t want to,” she sings on “First Time.” The record is deeply rooted in the physicality of adolescence: flushed cheeks in a crush’s basement, teenage bodies sprouting like weeds, dancing in the aisle of a five and dime. On said album, this week’s Home Video, Dacus revisits her coming-of-age years in Richmond, Virginia, where she was devoutly Christian with a bit of a self-admitted savior complex. With a self-deprecating groan and chuckle, she imagines an imminent phone call from her mother. Dacus does have one small ask: Would I mind if she reapplies a coat of blue nail polish while we discuss her new album? Earlier in the day, she filmed an interview for PBS and noticed afterwards that her nails were badly chipped. But the 26-year-old indie rocker rolls with the punches, exuding a calm warmth. Thanks to a scheduling snafu, Lucy Dacus is caught off-guard when I arrive at her Brooklyn Airbnb on a warm afternoon in mid-May.
