When I first walk into the Winspear Opera House and make it past security, I run into a gaggle of teenage-to-early-twenties-aged women dressed in various Lucy Dacus and boygenius merch from over the years, who I presume are the top one percent of Lucy Dacus listeners (verified by Spotify Wrapped, of course).

If I’m gonna be real, I’ve never been to an opera house before, let alone seen an indie singer-songwriter perform in one. The most experience I’ve had with opera was through the episode of Arthur where an animated third-grade monkey falls in love with opera after belligerently hating it all episode. So, needless to say, I have some high expectations.

The concert kicks off with Dacus’s first opener, jasmine.4.t, whose brightly two-toned dyed hair matches the equally bright lights of the set. I liked all the songs, but especially one particular song where Katie Gavin comes out and shares the stage with her, and they perform “Guy Fawkes Tesco Dissociation,” a track Phoebe Bridgers is featured on in the studio version of You Are The Morning, with Katie Gavin stepping in for Bridgers. 

It was nice to see that the openers are friends or, at the very least, acquaintances with each other. In a way, jasmine.4.t reminds me of Sinéad O’Connor, as both are European and retain their accents while singing. Which isn’t a bad thing in any way—just something I found interesting, considering I love O’Connor’s cover of the Nirvana song “All Apologies.”

When jasmine.4.t finishes her set, the room buzzes through an intermission, chattering away about the set. Just like that, Katie Gavin steps back onto the stage for her set. Somehow, I completely missed the group chat memo that Katie from MUNA is Katie Gavin. Mildly embarrassing, considering how many times I’ve scream-sung “Silk Chiffon.” 

For some reason, I never connected that Katie from the band MUNA and Katie Gavin are the same person, which is a bit weird ’cause I like “Silk Chiffon” by MUNA. Gavin plays a bit of her album What A Relief, though tragically “Keep Walking” didn’t make the cut, a slight oversight that I may never recover from. 

For “As Good As It Gets,” which features Mitski, jasmine.4.t returns back on the stage to sing Mitski’s lyrics. It was fun to see the two of them play their own version of Six Degrees of Sad Girl Pop through their collabs. Gavin ends her set with “Aftertaste,” which is about the head rush she gets with a new romantic relationship. 

After a brief intermission, the lights dim, and a soft blue sky streaked with fluffy white clouds is projected across the backdrop, while “Calliope Prelude” hums softly in the background. Between the fluttering melodies and dreamy visuals, I genuinely thought I had ascended into indie rock heaven, but then I remembered I’m at a Lucy Dacus concert. 

So, close enough, right? 

Dacus opens up with “Ankles”, a track off her latest studio album, Forever Is A Feeling. The clouds have been replaced with framed paintings, and the stage has a museum-like quality now. It’s what I think I’m giving when I set my iPhone wallpaper as Basquiat paintings. 

She later plays one of my favorites, “Partner in Crime” (take notes Katie Gavin) off her album Home Video, which I thoroughly enjoyed. 

Dacus also played my number one favorite song off Forever Is a Feeling, “Bullseye,” which features Hozier. I’d seen a social media post about how at a New York show, Dacus actually brought Hozier out to sing his verses live. So naturally, the big question of the night was: would he show up here in Dallas?

The answer is… uh, sorta?

Instead of the man himself, we got his “cousin,” who was really jasmine.4.t, rocking a curly wig and a fake beard that looked like it came straight from Party City. I really can’t escape her tonight. At first, I found the whole setup pretty hilarious, but when she and Dacus started singing together, I actually appreciated the contrast.

The night ends with Dacus singing “Night Shift,” as the venue’s lights shift to a deep crimson and the paintings behind her dissolve into red static. It’s a good song, and an even better closer. Admittedly, it’s been slightly memed to death in my head thanks to all the FX’s The Bear edits; it’s soundtracked, which sometimes makes it hard to separate the song from Carmy’s emotional damage. But hearing it live brought it back to me in full. The catharsis, the build, the gut punch—yeah, it still hits for me. 

As the final note of “Night Shift” rang out and the red haze from the lights lingered, like the last trace of tears finally drying after an ugly cry, we made our way to the exits. I found myself weirdly moved by the whole concert. Maybe forever is a feeling after all.