
On her fourth solo album, “Forever Is a Feeling” (out March 28), Lucy Dacus contemplates the fears and delights that go along with falling hard for someone. The song “Best Guess” celebrates the leap of faith involved in committing to a partner with the knowledge that both of you will change over time. And in another track called “Talk,” a couple realizes they’ve grown apart because they have nothing more to say to each other. In this episode, Dacus reads Molly Pascal’s Modern Love essay “How the ‘Dining Dead’ Got Talking Again,” about a couple who sets out to bring conversation back into their marriage. And Dacus tells Anna Martin why she’s not afraid to put in the work for long-term love. Lucy Dacus’ fourth solo album, “Forever Is a Feeling,” is out March 28. Molly Pascal’s essay can be found here. Here’s how to submit a Modern Love essay to The New York Times. Here’s how to submit a Tiny Love Story.
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Anna Martin
Love now and did you.
MultiCare Representative
Fall in love last fella Lover love.
Anna Martin
Was stronger than anything for the love.
Lucy Dacus
Love and I love you more than anything.
Anna Martin
You're still love love. From the New York Times, I'm Anna Martin. This is Modern Love. Every week we bring you stories and conversations inspired by the Modern Love column. We talk about love, sex, friends, family and all the messiness of human relationships. When I think about today's guest indie rock darling Lucy Dacus, there is one lyric that is seared into my mind because it is maybe too vivid. It's this awkward description of a kiss, and it's in her 2018 song Night Shift.
Lucy Dacus
The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit.
Anna Martin
Ugh. Dacus always sounds like she's taking her lyrics straight from the pages of her old diaries on her solo albums and when she plays with the Grammy winning trio Boy Genius. For example, in songs like First Time, I can hear the thrill and the drama of being in your 20s and falling in love and out of love and back in love again. Dakas has a new album out on March 28th. It's called Forever Is a Feeling, and on this record she sounds like she's moving into yet another era. She's singing more about queer love and lust and being ready to commit to someone, or at least try to for the long term. Today I talk to Lucy Dacus about the new emotional territory she's been exploring in her music, and she reads a Modern Love essay about how hard it can be to stay connected to a partner when we inevitably keep changing as individuals. Lucy Dacus, welcome to Modern Love.
Lucy Dacus
Thanks for having me.
Anna Martin
Lucy, you recently did something that I thought was very fun and very flirty. You posted a TikTok where you gave fans a short teaser of a new song and you told them you were doing an open casting call for the music video you said you were looking for. And I'm quoting you here. People who are smooth or suave or can pretend to be. Maybe you're a hot mask. Maybe you're simply willing and able and not afraid to be unique on camera. What made you decide to do this open call with those very specific parameters?
Lucy Dacus
Well, the song is Best Guess which is the first love song I've ever written that uses like she pronouns. I was like, okay, this is my first, like, overtly little gay time in a song. So I was like, let's have it. Be like a bachelor party for me. Cause my dream is that people would, like, play it at their weddings. You are my best guest. At the future, you are my best guest. And also just the chorus being like, you're my best guest. Like, that's kind of maybe all you can give since things change. And so I like that as vows because it's like, you know, I intend to stick with you and love you forever and that. That should be enough. So anyways, I was thinking about marriage and stuff. I was like, it should be a bachelor party for me. I'll invite some friends and then maybe I can invite other people to be looking hot in suits. And I was like, how am I gonna find people? Do we go to general casting or is it dancers? And I was like, you know, who looks into cameras and tries to look cool? People on TikTok. Because it's like a skill that I'm the least suave person in that video. You have to have, like, confidence to be able to do that. And then it took on really a life of its own. There were over like 5,000 entries. I didn't end up getting to see all of them, but what fun. And I did. You know, I feel a little bit put upon that. People started to expect for it to represent, like, lesbianism or just the mask part, like the butchdom. But there's men and women and non binary people in the video, just hotties and having like a sweet time playing pool and arm wrestling and boxing. Boxing scenes of people, like, looking into the camera, like, getting dressed and dancing. There's like a coordinated dance. And Kayleigh, one of the boxers, they like, were like, can I show my top surgery scars? And I was like, yes, absolutely. And there have been, like, really sweet messages from people being like, I see myself for the first time. Or like parents of young kids being like, that's really sweet. My kid is seeing, like a positive. You know, they want their queer kids to engage with queer media, but a lot of it is miserable. A lot of queer media is about suffering. And so this is like just a lightweight. You know, it's four minutes, but it was beautiful. Like, people were crying on set and it was really nice.
Anna Martin
You know, I do want to talk about the fact that you said this was the first love song where you used. You identified the person, the object of desire, as a she. Tell me about the emotions surrounding that choice.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I mean, I haven't written that many love Songs in general, I haven't felt that people deserve to know what's going on with me. Or I just haven't want that to be a focus of any art because then people get curious and, like, don't be curious about that. And honestly, still, I'm like, mind your business. But I do have all these songs that feel very special that just come out of my life. That's why I'm writing music is like, to translate my life to myself. But in the past, I've kind of kept pronouns ambiguous just so the most people can relate to them or just put themselves into it. And also, it's really about the ideas behind it more than the specific people. So I think it just, like, puts focus more on what I'm saying than who I'm saying it to. But, you know, I thought about changing this lyric to keep with that principle, but I was like, I don't know. I'll give him one. I'll give me one. You know, like, it does feel good. I played it one time. I, like, surprised open for Julian Baker, and at that line, everyone went, wait.
Anna Martin
The crowd gasped.
Lucy Dacus
The crowd was like. And then did a little like, yay. Like a quiet yay.
Anna Martin
Tell me about how that. How did that feel to experience?
Lucy Dacus
Well, it was nice. It made me laugh, like, in the middle of the song, made me smile. I'm like, this is good. If it's bringing some people delight.
Anna Martin
You said, I'll give them one. As in, like, a detail, I guess, about your life. But then you changed it immediately. And you said, I'll give me one.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, like one. Just upfront, uncloaked. That's how it is. Moment.
Anna Martin
That's how it is. I want to return to the lyrics of Best Guess. To me, it sounds like a love song with some very crucial caveats. Almost like I'm not sure what the future holds for us, but I love you. You're hot. I think we have a chance. You sing. I love your body. I love your mind. They will change, so will mine. But you are my best guess at the future. Is that something you feel hanging over you when you're falling for someone? The possibility that as you evolve and get older, you might change too much to stay together?
Lucy Dacus
I don't think it's hanging. Like, it doesn't get in the way. It's just the truth. So it's there. I guess I'm not delusional enough to think that it isn't there. So I like that sentiment. Because being like your body will change a lot. Of people are not okay with this. A lot of people at all ages are not cool with that happening. And I think it's nice to hear your partner say, like, I know you're going to get old. I still like you. And yeah, if you change your mind, if you change who you are, I think there's still going to be something about you. Like if you change your opinions or you decide you were wrong about something or you don't have to be. Even though I love you as you are today, we don't get to freeze frame on today. Like, you can become other things and just, you know, wanting to support people in whoever they're becoming.
Anna Martin
That idea that our connection to someone we love can change reminds me of the essay, the Modern Love essay that you're gonna read for us today. Do you wanna say anything about why you chose it, why you were drawn to it?
Lucy Dacus
Sure. Y I read this and it's about this couple who seems like they're running out of things to say to each other as their relationship goes on and they have kids, which is something that I fear. And also I have a song called Talk that's just about that. Like being at the point of the relationship where you wonder if it's all over, you know, that there's not any more interest. I think this just happens a lot. And a lot of people give up or don't know how to get out of the rut of not being able to talk to each other. And so the story kind of talks about their efforts to revive their relationship from that point.
Anna Martin
We're gonna take a quick break. I'm really excited to hear you read this essay. When we come back.
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Lucy Dacus
Okay, I'm opening the New York Times app. The app has so much more than you might expect. The way the tabs are at the top with all of the different sections, it's just easier to navigate that way. There is something for everyone.
Anna Martin
When I open the YouTube, I get.
Lucy Dacus
A short list of articles that are.
Anna Martin
More related to me.
Lucy Dacus
10 stories picked for your Every day, you're able to add sections that interest you. That's really handy. There are some individuals in here. I can add Paul Krugman or Jamelle.
Anna Martin
Bouie I like him.
Lucy Dacus
The Lifestyle tab. The photos are just phenomenal. It's kind of like a collage. I go to games, always scroll over to the games page, play Wordle or Connections, and then swipe over to read today's headlines.
Anna Martin
There's an article next to a recipe.
Lucy Dacus
Next to games, and it's just easy to get everything in one place, and before you know it, you're going to be late to work. The New York Times app All of the times, all in one place. Download it now@nytimes.com app how the dining Dead Got Talking Again By Molly Pascal as two people newly in love, we talked and talked. We were in our early 30s then, so our talk included a history and a reckoning of all our previous loves, how they endured and how they ended. We talked about our past loves to see how they stacked up against the present one. Were any of them as big as this? No. How could they be? Falling in love for us meant falling into talk. We talked about our memories, broken bones, broken hearts, and one broken marriage. We talked about our mothers, one Jewish and one Italian, constantly cooking and feeding. We talked about our fathers, neither of whom cooked or fed. We talked about friends, come and gone. We talked about our careers, climbing the ladder of success, falling off of the ladder, leaning in and leaning out. We talked about our dreams of traveling, of marriage, of how many children we would like and what we would name them. With those subjects addressed, we turn to smaller details and anecdotest the stories about getting drunk, getting lost, crashing the car, stealing a candy bar, and falling down a flight of subway stairs before a job interview. Finally, we talked about the non stories, the quirky facts and facets of personality, our favorite movies, what we like to eat, what we wouldn't eat. He hated Kalamata olives, he could do without cucumbers. I hated capers and marshmallows and the end of Ghostbusters. He talked about rivers and rocks. I quoted Frank O'Hara and Mayakovsky. We compared 5k running times. There was never enough time and so much to discuss. We talked about the colors of leaves, the shapes of clouds, and why the word warmth has a hidden picture. We talked about sex. We talked about our wedding. We talked about our new house. We talked about furnishing it. We talked about pregnancy. We talked about the child. Then, the second, seven years into it, our marriage was different. After the machinations of getting the children to sleep, we would sit side by side in bed with computers on our laps, surfing the Internet. We were not talking not sleeping so close and yet so far apart. This dynamic of being physically together but emotionally disengaged had also bled into the mundane of the everyday, with too much silence and space between us on the couch and with us cooking on opposite sides of the kitchen island. We still talked, of course, but it was a different kind of talk. We spoke about the children, what they wanted for lunch, who would pick them up for school, and how to negotiate the dinner invitations for the weekend. We spoke of bills and laundry loads. We spoke about the organizational details of our day to day. These necessary conversations were the wheels on which our days turned. We didn't talk about sex much anymore, other than figuring out how to have it, with children barging through our door and demanding to know what we were doing instead. We read body language. Was one of us asleep before the other? Were we touching? Not touching. Belly down? I might turn my back, my body curved away from my husband in a posture of rejection. He might lightly touch my back and feel my body tighten. Sign language for no sex tonight. We were so tired. One night we went to dinner, just the two of us, and as we sat there quietly eating, a horrible memory came to mind. It wasn't a memory of my own experience. It was a memory of my watching a scene in a movie. In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Kate Winslet, who plays Clementine, and Jim Carrey, who plays her boyfriend Joel, are eating silently in a restaurant when Joel notices that all of the couples around them aren't talking. Are we like those bored couples you feel sorry for in restaurants? Joel muses to himself. Are we the dining dead? My husband and I sat there stone faced. We need to talk, my husband said. I waited for the bomb to drop. No, he said. I mean, just talk. I thought of some of the elderly couples I knew. I thought of how they talked. If they did, it wasn't an especially auspicious picture. They talked mostly about how hard it was to be old. Dyed hair, plastic surgery, Jazzercise, the weather too hot, too cold, too much rain, and the daily health reports. An ache here, an ache there. Insomnia, joints, vision, bowels. Quite a lot of bowels. I could see my husband and me 25 years from now, silently ingesting our dinner in some cafeteria, then returning to sleep in our downsized condo, all without being able to come up with anything of consequence to say to each other. We decided to give talking a real go that night. We sat purposefully on the couch. We put away the computers. We silenced our ringers. We looked at each other and smiled. We sipped some red wine. What do you want to talk about? I asked. What do you want to talk about? He asked. We stared at each other. Did you hear what Otis said? My husband asked. I told him to turn off the faucet while he was brushing his teeth so he wouldn't waste water, and he got really angry and told me that I had once wasted french fries. We laughed, and the other day I began. Then I stopped. I think we need to make a rule, I said. We can't talk about the children because we could talk about them all day. Okay, he said. We tried again. We stared at each other some more. I admired how handsome and muscular my husband still looked. That was good, wasn't it? Who needed to talk? This wasn't going well. We needed a different approach. We shipped the children to the In Laws. Then we locked our phones in the glove compartment and drove a few hours south into West Virginia, returning to the kind of place where we had first really talked, on a mountain in the woods. I was afraid. What if we had nothing left to talk about? I remember the first few hours for the paucity of conversation. We hiked and breathed. We stopped to drink water. We listened to the racket of our bodies moving through the world, tripping, breathing, sneezing, and the sounds of nature to which I was suddenly attuned. The jackhammer of a pileated woodpecker, the predatory screech of a hawk, the frozen stare of an exposed turtle, and the soft sway of brush around a snake. During that time, even my internal monologue was silent. It turned out that with all the time in the world to think, some of it must be spent not thinking. We felt refreshed and relieved to be absorbed in the rhythm of our steps. We stopped for lunch. We chatted about nothing, then a little something, and as we walked we forgot about trying to talk and ended up talking. We were freed from the mechanics of life, so our talk could be too. I had forgotten that there are certain places that promote conversation. With my children, for example, I had noticed that if I asked them over dinner what had happened at school, they would always reply nothing. But in the car the next morning, they would often transform into chatterboxes. Likewise, while hiking, we relaxed and fell back into talking. We related stories we had forgotten to tell each other, funny exchanges from work. We bantered and flirted, sidestepping into tangents. We reminisce, too, about our early days, an entirely new kind of talking that comes from having known someone for a long time. Now, several times a year, my husband and I leave the children for a weekend and go hiking. We have talked our way across the ridge of the North Fork Mountain of West Virginia, down 18 miles of the Narrows in Zion national park, through the wilds of Dolly Sods, and across mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire. Couples spend so much time together throughout a life. We human beings live a lot longer than we used to. Some of us stay married to the same person for 50 or 60 years. It's no wonder we run out of things to talk about. It's no surprise that we join the ranks of the dining dead. But it doesn't have to be that way. During our weekend respites, my husband and I feel inspired by a new alliance, a new adventure. We feel the power of long term coexistence and a sense of having gone through the rage of life and emerged. That's how we fell into talk again. That's how we fell in love again.
Anna Martin
More from Lucy Dacus in just a moment.
MultiCare Representative
Our state has changed a lot in the last 140 years. We know because MultiCare has been here guided by a single purpose, making our communities healthier. That comes from making courageous decisions, partnering with local communities to grow programs and services, and expanding healthcare access to those who need it most. Together, we're building a healthier future. Learn more@ multicare.org.
Anna Martin
I play Wordle and Spelling Bee every single day.
Lucy Dacus
That's the first thing I do, play.
Anna Martin
Wordle while making coffee.
Lucy Dacus
I pour myself a cup and do.
Anna Martin
The crossword, which is the jewel of my morning. What's our starting word today?
Lucy Dacus
I think it should be ocean. I have seen you do spelling bee during meetings. The New York Times crossword is a moment of Zen that cleanses my brain.
Anna Martin
I wish the days were shorter and.
Lucy Dacus
That the wordles were longer. Join us and play all New York times games@nytimes.com games. Subscribe by March 16 to get a special offer.
Anna Martin
Lucy Molly Pascal ends her essay talking about how these getaways she and her husband were taking helped them fall into talking again and fall back into love again. What came up for you reading that essay?
Lucy Dacus
Good for them. Yeah, that sounds lovely. Yeah. Really them just affording time for each other and space and silence. I think the nature aspect seems important, especially if you're like living in cities. It's just good for any individual but also seemingly good for a couple. Yeah. I'm glad that they remembered that they like each other.
Anna Martin
Yeah.
Lucy Dacus
And they're not just employees of each other. I think long term relationships they There's a Risk of feeling like you're coworkers in a life and just disappearing into the tedium. Like, you go to work, then you come home, and then you work on being at home.
Anna Martin
Have you had that happen before?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I have felt like both people, myself and the other person will sometimes be like, okay, the priorities are our tasks. Not entirely. Like, I don't think I've been lost to this level of disconnection. Disconnect. Yeah, Good word. But, yeah, I do fear it. Cause I feel like you see it all the time.
Anna Martin
Molly talks about. I mean, obviously nature is huge for her and her husband to reconnect. She also mentions, you know, that she noticed some spaces are better for conversation than others. Don't you feel like driving a long drive with someone and this relates to your song talk that we're gonna talk about? That's an amazing space for conversation. Like, you know, sitting next to someone in the front seat of a car, both of your eyes on the road, driving.
Lucy Dacus
The eye contact thing. I wonder about that. Because you can't make eye contact because someone has to look at the road. So it's like that pressure's off a little bit. But I'm a big believer in the power of liminal space. Like, everything good happens to me between point A and point B. It seems like. Yeah. In between what's supposed to happen. That's where, like, all the surprise is. So, yeah. Going for a walk. Yeah. Road trips in transit. I write most of my songs in that space. Like walking or traveling and becoming comfortable with silence or just stillness and even pointlessness. Like, when you do something that doesn't have much meaning, it kind of makes room for other meaningful things to take over. Nothing is expected of me in this moment. That's the other thing is when you behave out of, like, what's this person expecting of me? What are my expectations? Someone recently told me that expectations are premeditated resentments.
Anna Martin
Whoa.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah.
Anna Martin
Expectations are premeditated resentments. Yeah, I've been thinking about that for a while.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, that was a big, big yikes for me.
Anna Martin
How did that hit? Where did that hit?
Lucy Dacus
I was just like, say that.
Anna Martin
Well, what does it mean to you? What does that mean to you?
Lucy Dacus
So I guess expectations are like, the antithesis would be just accepting what the world has to offer or what a person has to offer. And I do. I think it's okay to have obligations or to intentions towards things. But expectations are, like, people's rules for each other that maybe it works out when they're easy to meet. But Often, I think they're very pressureful. And, yeah, I think that if someone is not meeting your expectations of them, you can resent them for that. But that's, like, so your business that you came up with expectations in the first place.
Anna Martin
I'm thinking back to the essay and how Molly Pascal and her husband maybe had this expectation of a certain kind of talk, you know, later on into their relationship. And then, you know, resentment isn't a word that's used in this essay, but there is a real distance that's created. Yeah.
Lucy Dacus
Well, it's nice. Who knows if this came up for them and it's not in the essay, But I think it can feel really personal. It's like, why aren't you curious about me? Why am I not satisfactory to you? And that's like, a lot of projection and fear of just, like, do you even care? That has been something that I feel like if the other person's not asking me questions, I'm just like, it's hard to. I have to be invited to share things sometimes.
Anna Martin
I was gonna say, like, I'm curious. Like, what are the things you want someone to know about you? You when you're in this deep, you know, relationship building, sharing, part of a connection. I can give my own as you think.
Lucy Dacus
Give me your examples, and I'll think on it.
Anna Martin
Okay. Well. And I did have the benefit of foresight on this one, since I already thought about it.
Lucy Dacus
Okay.
Anna Martin
But I'll stall and give you some time. One thing about me is I am extremely effusive over text. I use, like, a billion exclamation points. And I think when I'm first meeting someone, it's like raising alarm bells. It's like, why are you yelling? Are you freaking out? Is anything a problem? I'm like, I'm five minutes away with, like, a billion accents. And so what I want someone to know when they're getting to know me is, like, that's just how I talk.
Lucy Dacus
Oh, my God. I'm gonna just say I'm the opposite. And I do want people to know this. No. Even when I first meet people, I will say, by the way, I'm a bad texter. It's not on you. I'm one of those. I'm really. I'll get a text and be like, that's so nice. And then it's over. Like, the transaction has happened, you know, like the conversation happen in my head.
Anna Martin
So you don't respond.
Lucy Dacus
But I don't know that I don't. Or I'll text Out something and not hit send. Because I'll be like, let me think about that, if that's really what I wanted to say. And then it just disappears and something else becomes urgent and. Cause I get a lot of texts. That's. Texting is where, like, my job is happening.
Anna Martin
But it's like, you want someone to know, like, I am thinking about you. Just, I'm like, kind of overwhelmed by life stuff and by job stuff.
Lucy Dacus
But also similarly, why do we have rules around this?
Anna Martin
Okay.
Lucy Dacus
You should just know people's heart. And I'm trusting that you know that I still like you.
Anna Martin
Can I ask you. And you know, this is not like, I'm just curious. Does that change when you're, like, seeing someone romantically? Like, do you give. Throw an emoji in maybe to let.
Lucy Dacus
Em know, you know, I love an emoji. I've only ever been romantically with people that were friends, so they already know this about me.
Anna Martin
That's nice.
Lucy Dacus
So that's nice. And also all my real ones know that we just need to plan to see each other and I will be present. Cause the good thing about being bad at texting is you're not texting during dinner. I am not on my phone.
Anna Martin
Okay. Neither am I.
Lucy Dacus
Okay, cool. Okay. That wasn't a read on you. But some people. I have some friends that are like, why do you never text me back? And then we hang out and they're texting and I'm like, I think you want the texting more than the in person. And that's actually okay if that's real for you. It's just not compatible.
Anna Martin
Okay. You have a song on your new album called Talk. It's extremely related to this essay you just read. And the scene in the song is two people driving on a windy road in the dark. And in the song, you sing.
Lucy Dacus
Please do talk for hours.
Anna Martin
And at the end of the song, you sing, I didn't mean to start talking in the past tense. I guess I don't know what I think till I start talking. How I hear it is. The protagonist in the song is taking this long silence between them and their partner to mean that the best days of their relationship are in the past, and for that reason they have to end it. Is that the correct read? Is that the correct interpretation?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I mean, this song is about, like, even in those spaces, like, driving where it used to be, like, so verdant, like, conversation. If that's not possible, then it's like, maybe we've really tapped it out, you know? And you're just not interested. And then the second verse, it's like, maybe a little more dark, but it's about having sexual expectations when you aren't connecting as people anymore, which is just a nightmare for me. I'm just like, so you just want something from me and you don't want me, or you're taking me for granted. And feeling unseen in those situations are very dissociative for me. So basically just the idea of the body having need for you, but the person not and knowing each other physically. So it's like, I know how to do this, but kind of that scary, like, expectation somewhere in this, this person started to feel alone while we were together.
Anna Martin
Have you experienced that sort of fear of disconnection that what we hear about in the song? Have you experienced that?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I mean, just, like, looking at someone and being like, where are you? You know, like, we're both here, but you're not. Or even feeling that. Myself, like, I feel like my mind can kind of go to other things than where people wish it would go. And I don't know if it's anybody's, like, fault or if it's just a sign to move on. Basically, the story is like, the good version. Like, in this song, it's like, on a road trip at a hotel, doing something different, and it's not working.
Anna Martin
Yeah. I mean, in the essay you just read, they make a totally different decision. Right. They decide to fight for their relationship and work for it. And I guess, I wonder, like, what would you need from a relationship to want to put in the work? Like, Molly Pascal and her husband, they.
Lucy Dacus
Seem compatible in the amount of effort they both want to put in. Like, it's not like, this was, like, how I convinced my husband to talk to me again. Like, it's how we did this. And they seem like they're both willing and that they both know that there is a problem. I mean, I think even her husband started the conversation, which.
Anna Martin
Yeah, you said we have to talk.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah. And I love when other people start conversations with me. I think I have, like, a reputation of being the person that will, like, put the issue on the table. Be like, here's this. Let's speak on it. I'm a conflict lover, because where else are you going to learn? I mean, I don't mean, like, getting angry and fighting and letting past wounds play out, though, in good relationships, that should be allowed and made space for. But defending your own heart is important. And if other people come to you and are like, that hurt me or I didn't like this. Maybe you get to be like, here was my intention because I didn't mean to. Like, I really. I'm sorry. Why is it so hard?
Anna Martin
That's an amazing question that if we had the answer to it, you and I, this would be easier. We would rule the world.
Lucy Dacus
Yeah.
Anna Martin
Well, I'm thinking about, do you have a kind of rule or, I don't know, any tactics that you have to sort of encourage the right kind of talk with a partner?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I think, yeah, it's not really rules, but it's just like eye time. Like, be like we have to look at each other.
Anna Martin
Wait, I. Time.
Lucy Dacus
Eye, yeah. Eye. Yeah. Not like me.
Anna Martin
Do you call it that?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah, I like, need some eye time. Being like that's the only thing I'm doing right now is seeing you.
Anna Martin
Is it like a daily occurrence?
Lucy Dacus
It's just whenever you need it. It's like when you're thirsty, you drink water. Just like need eye time. Some days you need more than others.
Anna Martin
Molly Pascal published her Modern Love essay back in 2016. So we reached out to her to ask if there were any updates. And she said, Matt and I will mark our 17th wedding anniversary this year. We still sometimes sit in silence at restaurants, of course, but I find myself more comfortable with the L. Matt and I have hiked and talked our way across Iceland, Norway, Jordan, the Canadian Rockies, the Adirondacks and Utah. Good for them.
Lucy Dacus
That is so cool. Good on ya.
Anna Martin
Good on ya. Molly and Matt, do you feel like you have experienced. I know you're 29, right?
Lucy Dacus
Yeah.
Anna Martin
Roughly the same ages. Roughly the same age as me. I'm 30. You know, unless we married our kindergarten crush, we would not have, you know, the opportunity to be with someone for decades in an adult relationship. Does the prospect of that kind of long term relationship excite you? Does it scare you?
Lucy Dacus
I like it. I mean, I. I love like, long books because I'm just like, you get so much time to like, know the characters and see them change. And I just feel that way in life. Like the characters of my life only get richer as I know them. And also just how humbling to be like, oh, I didn't get it and now I do all the time. Or like, I was wrong. Underrated saying I was wrong. People should be saying I was wrong more because, yeah, like, what a way to notice that you're still alive, that you're changing and growing.
Anna Martin
Lucy Dankus, thank you so much for talking with me today.
Lucy Dacus
This was great. I had an awesome time.
Anna Martin
Lucy Dacus new album, Forever Is a feeling, drops March 28, and she'll be on tour this spring and summer. You can find a link to the essay you heard today, how the Dining Dead Got Talking Again, in our Show Notes. This episode was produced by Reva Goldberg with help from Amy Pearl Davis Land and Emily Lang. It was edited by Gianna Palmer and our executive producer, Jen Poyant, production management by Christina Josa. The Modern Love theme music is by Dan Powell. Original music in this episode by Alicia Ba'e Toup, Marian Lozano, Pat McCusker, Rowan Niemisto, Dan Powell and Amin Sahota. This episode was mixed by Daniel Ramirez with studio support from Matty Masiello and Nick Pittman. Special thanks to Mihima Chablani, Nell Galogly and Jeffrey Miranda and to our video team, Brooke Minnow, Felice Leone, Dave Mayers and Eddie Costas. The Modern Love column is edited by Daniel Jones. Mia Lee is the editor of Modern Love Projects. If you want to submit an essay or a tiny love story to the New York Times, the instructions are in our Show Notes. I'm Anna Martin. Thanks for listening.
Modern Love Podcast Episode Summary: "Lucy Dacus Might Not Text You Back"
Release Date: March 12, 2025
In this compelling episode of Modern Love, hosted by Anna Martin, indie rock sensation Lucy Dacus delves deep into the intricacies of love, communication, and personal growth within relationships. Drawing parallels between her music and the Modern Love essay "How the Dining Dead Got Talking Again" by Molly Pascal, Dacus offers an intimate exploration of maintaining connections amidst life's inevitable changes.
Anna Martin opens the episode by highlighting Lucy Dacus's evocative songwriting, particularly her raw and diary-like lyrics that capture the essence of love's complexities. She references Dacus's 2018 song "Night Shift," noting its vivid portrayal of intimacy:
Lucy Dacus [01:02]: "The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit."
Martin commends Dacus for her ability to translate personal experiences into relatable art, emphasizing her collaboration with the Grammy-winning trio Boygenius and her forthcoming album, Forever Is a Feeling. This new record marks a significant shift towards exploring queer love, commitment, and the challenges of sustaining long-term relationships.
At [02:22], the conversation shifts to Dacus's interactive engagement with her fans through a TikTok casting call for her new song "Best Guess." Martin quotes Dacus's invitation:
Anna Martin [02:22]: "...you're looking for... people who are smooth or suave or can pretend to be. Maybe you're a hot mask. Maybe you're simply willing and able and not afraid to be unique on camera."
Dacus explains her inspiration behind this inclusive approach:
Lucy Dacus [02:54]: "...this is my first, like, overtly little gay time in a song... it was like a bachelor party for me."
The casting call garnered over 5,000 entries, reflecting a diverse and supportive response from her fanbase. Dacus shares heartwarming feedback and the emotional impact of seeing representation in queer media:
Lucy Dacus [04:25]: "People were crying on set and it was really nice."
Dacus discusses the emotional significance of using specific pronouns in her lyrics, a departure from her previous tendency to keep them ambiguous. At [05:39], she reflects:
Lucy Dacus: "I haven't written that many love songs in general... I thought about changing this lyric to keep with that principle, but I was like, I don't know. I'll give him one. I'll give me one."
This choice not only personalizes her music but also resonates with listeners seeking authentic representation.
In a heartfelt segment, Dacus reads Molly Pascal's essay "How the Dining Dead Got Talking Again," which narrates a couple's struggle with dwindling conversations and their journey to rekindle their connection through shared experiences in nature. The essay poignantly captures the fear of emotional disconnection:
Molly Pascal (Essay): "We read body language. Was one of us asleep before the other?... We were so tired... We need to talk."
Post-reading, Dacus connects the essay's themes to her own experiences and observations. She expresses concerns about the silent drift that can occur in long-term relationships:
Lucy Dacus [23:05]: "It's like, why aren't you curious about me? Why am I not satisfactory to you?"
Martin and Dacus explore the challenge of maintaining meaningful dialogue amidst life's demands, emphasizing the importance of intentional communication.
The conversation delves into the concept of expectations as potential sources of resentment. Dacus echoes a profound insight shared during the episode:
Anna Martin [25:48]: "Expectations are premeditated resentments."
Dacus expands on this, highlighting how unmet expectations can strain relationships and advocating for accepting others as they are:
Lucy Dacus [25:57]: "If someone is not meeting your expectations of them, you can resent them for that... that's your business that you came up with expectations in the first place."
Dacus candidly discusses her struggles with texting, contrasting it with her preference for in-person interactions. She reveals:
Lucy Dacus [28:11]: "I'm a bad texter... I think you want texting more than the in-person. And that's actually okay if that's real for you. It's just not compatible."
This honesty offers listeners a relatable perspective on modern communication barriers within relationships.
The episode highlights Dacus's new song "Talk," which intricately portrays the fear of disconnection. She explains:
Lucy Dacus [31:00]: "This song is about... feeling alone while we were together."
The lyrics reflect anxieties about emotional intimacy and the struggle to maintain a connection, resonating with the essay's narrative.
Concluding the discussion, Dacus shares her optimistic view on enduring relationships. She likens long-term partnerships to rich, evolving narratives:
Lucy Dacus [36:10]: "The characters of my life only get richer as I know them... what a way to notice that you're still alive, that you're changing and growing."
This perspective underscores the potential for growth and deepening love over time, aligning with the essay's message of rekindling connections.
Anna Martin wraps up the episode by promoting Dacus's upcoming album Forever Is a Feeling and tour, while also acknowledging the heartfelt conversation shared. The episode leaves listeners reflecting on the delicate balance of maintaining love through open communication and mutual growth.
Notable Quotes:
Lucy Dacus [02:54]: "This is my first, like, overtly little gay time in a song... it should be enough."
Lucy Dacus [05:39]: "I thought about changing this lyric to keep with that principle, but I was like, I don't know. I'll give him one. I'll give me one."
Anna Martin [25:48]: "Expectations are premeditated resentments."
Lucy Dacus [36:10]: "The characters of my life only get richer as I know them... what a way to notice that you're still alive, that you're changing and growing."
This episode of Modern Love expertly intertwines personal storytelling with universal themes, offering listeners both a window into Lucy Dacus's artistic mind and a mirror to their own relational experiences.