“Night Shift,” the opener on Lucy Dacus’s sophomore LP, is a scorching kiss-off to an unworthy ex that starts quietly and builds slowly. Dacus sings softly at first, her dark, honeyed voice gaining momentum as the acoustic guitar picks up support from bass, drums and then, two-thirds of the way through, an overdriven electric guitar that punches through the facade of calm as Dacus lets her voice loose. “Addictions” is no less impactful: chiming guitar at the start rolls into a chugging riff on the refrain, punctuated by a huge brass fanfare that immediately retreats—and never exactly repeats. The genius of the song is the way Dacus steers it in unexpected directions, the horns circling her voice here and veering off on their own there in a way that makes the tune take flight. It’s a talent she demonstrates throughout Historian.
