“Killer” by Phoebe Bridgers

At SevenPonds, our mission is to foster an honest and open conversation with death, and Phoebe Bridgers may just be the best contemporary artist to fit that bill.

The 26-year-old Los Angeles native has been recording and writing songs since her teens and released her well-reviewed debut album “Stranger in the Alps” in 2017. She also put out albums with collaborators like Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus in 2018 and Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes in 2019.

That trajectory had many eagerly eyeing her still-young career. And then quarantine hit. Tours were halted, venues were shut down. But then Bridgers’ latest album, “Punisher,” was released in June 2020. And her star went supernova. The record was considered a cathartic scream into the void that resonated with the high-summer anxieties of a drawn-out pandemic. Critical and commercial acclaim followed. Then came a high-profile SNL performance where she smashed her guitar, which in turn led her to take on rock-purist Twitter and fire back at the likes of David Crosby. Ultimately this culminated in four Grammy nods earlier this month, but while she won the red carpet in a glittering skeleton dress, she did not take home any hardware on awards night.

Bridgers’ songwriting talent has been apparent since the outset of her career
Credit: KCRW

But what is it about death? Well, to Bridgers, what is not? The themes litter her songwriting, pushing through to album covers, merch, and a Halloween store skeleton costume that has become her de-facto uniform. Her self-described “fascination with death” could be considered morbid and macabre if it wasn’t handled with the gentleness and emotional vulnerability that are the hallmarks of Bridgers’ songwriting. This has been present since the very beginning of her career with her 2015 debut single, “Killer”

Sometimes I think I’m a killer

I scared you in your house

I even scared myself by talking

About Dahmer on your couch

But I can’t sleep next to a body

Even harmless in death

Plus, I’m pretty sure I’d miss you

And faking sleep to count your breath

Bridgers’ reference to a serial killer who famously slept next to the bodies of his victims and then invoking that imagery in the next line is not for shock factor. The narrator is deeply afraid of abandonment, that they are pushing their partner away, but they also fear what they might do to keep them around.

Over the course of the song, the narrator grapples with their conflicting desire for the relationship and the knowledge that forcing someone to be with you is as toxic as it is exhausting. In the next verse, Bridgers slips into a familiar and grim hospital scene.

But when I’m sick and tired

And when my mind is barely there

When a machine keeps me alive

And I’m losing all my hair

I hope you kiss my rotten head

And pull the plug

Here the narrator is the one begging to be let go, whether they are speaking to themselves to release the negative behaviors and energy that have made them so weak, or to be let out of the relationship that has cost so much of their well-being. This release is seen as an act of mercy. 

The second verse ends with the narrator asserting that “I’ve burned every playlist/ I’ve given all my love.” In that assertion comes a feeling of rebirth within the double entendre of destruction and creation as she “burns” every playlist. There’s nothing left but to move on and create more.

It seems Bridgers finds catharsis in death—in this case, the death of a relationship —but not finality. The fight is exhausting and leaves you weary, but there’s room to evolve and expand. And there will be many folks looking forward to how Bridgers continues to evolve as one of the best songwriters working today.