Phoebe Bridgers’ Lost Weekend is a stellar study of grief, grudge and devotion

Despite soaring performances, most tracks feel more grounded than those on Punisher. You can hear crystallised guitar strums amidst angelic harmonies, fervent drums colliding with sharp viola. By the time “Bobby” comes on, you may have settled on the fact that Lost Weekend is Bridgers at her most expressionist self, and it’s the best she’s ever sounded. Hardly any instrument is muted like before. Each piece builds up and explodes into a supernova of monolithic feelings, particularly grief, grudge and devotion. This newfound magic in her music – extroverted, snappy, outdoorsy and at times celestial when need be – is an excellent vehicle for violent emotional landscapes in which words are rendered hopelessly futile. When “Lost Boys” was out, some people shielded their disappointment behind its gorgeous astral finish. On the album, it’s a necessary song of reconciliation, albeit one of the weakest of the whole bunch, to the relief of many. A characteristic from it persists, however: the tendency towards unstructured lyricism that sometimes lacks the gut punch of Punisher’s most cutting couplets and metaphors. “Haunted”, a British-weather track full of harmonica and pump organ, outline...