album review
Punisher
Phoebe Bridgers constructs apocalyptic folk from the detritus of ordinary sorrow, her observations arriving as mordant one-liners that unmake the world with precision, skeleton onesie in hand. Devastation accumulates through the weight of exacting understatement.
what it left me with
Humor does not negate grief; it is the vessel by which some carry sorrow into the public sphere. Irony and ache are not antithetical but accomplices.
this is one entry from a wandering list of films, books, shows and albums, kept by someone trying to live a slightly more deliberate life.
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