Ballad Breakdown: Lucy Dacus and the Melancholy of "Night Shift"

As a haunting beginning to the titular album Historian, Lucy Dacus details a cutting end to a tumultuous relationship, leaving listeners with a chilling reminder of their own tragic loves.

Written by Rachel Joy Thomas

Lucy Dacus hit the ground running when she released her first album, No Burden, in 2016. She produced the album in a matter of days, and recorded it in about ten hours. Dreamy, in-depth, and smooth with a bit of bite, No Burden established itself as a softer work within the 2010 indie-rock scene. The Richmond, Virginia-based artist had a kick to her music from the start. No Burden had a somewhat small but devoted group of avid supporters.

In 2018, the indie darling released her most popular album, Historian. On this forlorn record, Dacus explores themes of nostalgia and history. Nothing is more evident of deep, prolific desolation than “Night Shift.” This shattering track was "the only breakup song" that Dacus had written, with her titular, scream-cry of “You’ve got a nine to five, so I’ll take the night shift.” This line is powered by its jarring lyricism and Dacus' stinging, apathetic vocals. Feeling sidelined by her lover, she expresses the depressing sentiment that she will take the more challenging 'night shift' to avoid seeing glimpses of her past in the 'nine to five.'

The song starts with the soft, warm strums of an acoustic guitar as Dacus slowly hymns her way into the first verse. With incredible potency, Dacus softly sings, "The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit / I mistakenly called them by your name / I was let down it wasn't the same.” Dacus’ vocals are gentle and melancholy as she croons about her body actively rejecting her new lover. This exchange isn’t described as a first love encounter, let alone a kiss. It is simply spit.

The songstress then shifts from her melancholia, stating that she's "feeling fine, trying to derail" her “one-track mind.” However, the persistent despair present in her vocals as she declares that she’s regaining her “self-worth in record time” reveals that the lyrically portrayed contentment is not her whole reality. However, Dacus’ hurt feelings are bubbling under the surface of her nonchalant declarations throughout the first couple of lines of the chorus. She confirms this between-the-lines sentiment by singing, "But I can't help but think of your other / In the bed that was mine." A cheating lover leaves Dacus behind in the cold as she desperately tries to deny how she feels about the infidelity.

In the next verse, Dacus observes her past lover and finds them staring at their feet,reacting rather passively to her presence. She had some expectation of catharsis, but realizes that was an unrealistic aspiration the moment she sees her ex. This encounter only absolves her ex's guilt rather than giving her any sort of inner peace. Dacus questions, "Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth?" These spiteful lyrics reveal how intense her emotions towards her previous lover truly are. A masochist, someone who enjoys the sensation of pain, usually accepts excruciating, sometimes deathly experiences. Dacus resisting her violent urges in “Night Shift” hints that she’s somehow enjoying the pain of heartbreak.

The song's gravity shifts with the swell of a percussive beat; it slowly builds upon the poignant lyrics: "I feel no need to forgive / But I might as well." This line shows a remarkable level of harsh maturity. She furthers this emotional buildup with a crushing lyrical longing: "But let me kiss your lips / So I know how it felt." Dacus recognizes that she misses intimacy with her ex even though she knows they mistreated her. In conjunction with her “coughing up somebody else’s spit,” this verse demonstrates the loneliness that can exist even when a person isn’t right for you.

As these falsely hopeful lyrics conclude, a nostalgic percussive beat chimes off as Dacus agonizingly recites, "Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down / Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell." The musical atmosphere shifts even further with the addition of more instrumentation. In a scathing monologue, she offers the most emotional lyrics of the entire track, singing, "Don't hold your breath, forget you ever saw me at my best." She curses her former lover for seeing her in her best moments. Dacus declares that her previous lover doesn't deserve her at her best, crying, "You don't deserve what you don't respect / Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect." She hits a higher note as she painfully cries, "Now bite your tongue, it's so dangerous to fall so young." She and her former lover fell in love early on in their lives and then fell out like their love never existed. At such an early age, the other person never expected to stay forever, which Dacus bitterly recounts. She stops herself from saying anything contrarian and instead simmers in the feeling of missing out on what could’ve been if they weren’t so young.

Falling back into a neutral tone again, Dacus reminisces, singing, "Take back what you said / Can't lose what you never had." She reverts back to forgiveness, repeating herself from earlier sections of the song. This time, though, as Dacus finishes "walking for hours in the dark" and feeling all of the emotions of this tragic breakup, she shifts the song once more. Four beats fire and the layered instrumentals suddenly disappear. Listeners are left with slowed strumming, similar to the very beginning of the song.

From this point, the song reinvents itself, adding a fuzzy guitar and bass to the mix paired with crashing cymbals. Dacus laments, "In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers / Dedicated to new lovers," before humming along with the sharp instrumentals of “Night Shift.” The song's waves build into a tsunami as Dacus continues a painful cry into the night. As she returns to her previous musings, Dacus excruciatingly sings once more, "You've got a nine to five, so I'll take the night shift." Pain reveals itself through her thrashing vocals in a beautiful crescendo, chaotically crashing into itself. In a silently musing tone, Dacus further chants"In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers / Dedicated to new lovers," as if to will the thought into reality.

“Night Shift” is devastating. Tonally, it sets itself up as a harsh, painful experience that defines Historian, rooting the album in a despairing nostalgia. The cold sting of Historian occasionally warms itself but remains steadfast in its devastation. The wreckage of the self is epitomized in the waves of its bitter sound.

The harrowing vibe of Historian is a result of Dacus’ utilization of both absence and presence of sound. Historian becomes louder, then softer, and then louder again, like the thoughts in a person's head swimming against a current as they unabashedly clamber on. Dacus almost always includes a honeyed transcendence in her work, which exhibits itself ethereally, giving listeners a glimpse into their own sorrowful pasts. “Night Shift” expresses a pain that lots of people can relate to: lost love. The stubborn reminder that you have to let go and avoid a past lover by taking the “Night Shift” — essentially getting the short end of the stick in a break up — is a severe wound. In that way, “Night Shift” acts as a brutal awakening. The heartbreak ballad exemplifies the highs and lows of Historian, an album which reflects on loss in many forms.

ANALYSISAfterglow ATXMarch 24, 2023joy thomas, rachel joy thomas, ballad breakdown, lucy dacus, night shift