I’m Growing Up and It Hurts: Phoebe Bridgers’ Stranger in the Alps Turns 5

Graphic by Lily Hartenstein

By Izzy Desmarais

This past Thursday, September 22, popular indie-rock artist Phoebe Bridgers’ debut album Stranger in the Alps celebrated its fifth anniversary. Over the last five years, Bridgers’ popularity has skyrocketed. “Motion Sickness,” the second track off Stranger in the Alps, is one of Bridgers’ most popular songs — garnering over 197 million streams on Spotify. Punisher, her second studio album released in June 2020, received critical acclaim and earned her four nominations at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards, including Best New Artist and Best Alternative Music Album. 

Her voice, effortlessly angelic, yet haunting, is highly sought after for features, as she has collaborated with prominent artists like Taylor Swift — “Nothing New” from Red (Taylor’s Version) — and The 1975 — “Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America” on their third studio album, Notes on a Conditional Form. Even the covers she releases gain as much acclaim as one of her original songs would, like “Nothing Else Matters” for The Metallica Blacklist, “That Funny Feeling” from Bo Burnham’s Inside, and most recently, the Carpenters’ “Goodbye to Love” featured on the Minions: The Rise of Gru soundtrack. 

Of course, fans of hers know Stranger in the Alps, but I feel as though it doesn’t receive as much attention as it should. There’s no denying that this album has a more understated beauty about it. Where Punisher has “I Know the End” — an epic finale complete with eerily disjointed orchestrals and loud guitars and earth shattering screams from Bridgers — Stranger in the Alps has “Smoke Signals (Reprise),” a 33-second instrumental repeating the opening track’s main melody. This album requires just a bit more contemplation, which isn’t a bad thing. Punisher lays all its cards out on the table for you — its lyrics are a little less nuanced and the music incorporates more rock elements, allowing listeners to hear exactly what Bridgers is feeling. However, Stranger in the Alps is much softer, folk-inspired, and creates a sense of mystery with its lyrics. You’re drawn in by her vocals, but you aren’t sure what she’s trying to say yet. The more you listen, the more you uncover in each song. 

The eleven tracks place a heavy emphasis on the paralyzing vulnerability of intimacy, toxic romantic relationships, and death. When I listen to the album now, I find another thematic thread connecting these songs — a loss of innocence and saying goodbye to your childhood. It is such a vital component of the record, it’s even referenced on the cover artwork — a childhood picture of Bridgers and her grandparents’ dog is altered by artist Angela Deane, where Bridgers has been painted over, appearing now as a ghost. 

“Smoke Signals,” the opening track, best illustrates a goodbye to childhood. While one can interpret it as an ill-fated love song, focusing on the miscommunication detailed in the chorus — “You, you must have been looking for me / Sending smoke signals” — I hear a painful farewell to the person Bridgers once was. There are lyrics embedded in each verse that speak closely to how I interpret the album as a whole — a reference to falling asleep in your childhood bed, the strange yet oddly comforting feeling you’ve known someone your whole life even though you haven’t, or wishing for a simpler life spent at the Holiday Inn. The closing verse — “The future’s unwritten; the past is a corridor / I’m at the exit, looking back through the hall” — especially calls to me. I can feel myself staring back down the long corridor of the past, knowing it’s impossible for me to ever go back there. I get chills listening to those lines. From a technical standpoint, the music is not complex. The two guitar riffs repeat throughout and are underscored by a single violin in the later half, but despite not being crowded with a fanfare of instruments, the sound still swells inside of you. It starts in the very bottom of your stomach and rises into your chest and then your throat. It is the musical manifestation of trying to hold back your tears and, in my opinion, nothing short of perfection.

Bridgers frequently employs death as a metaphor for growing up. The third track, “Funeral,” is about a close friend’s death after overdosing on heroin. While the song does talk about death in a literal way, Bridgers illustrates growing pains through the descriptions of fatal incidents. The second verse — “And I have this dream where I’m screaming underwater / While my friends are waving from the shore / And I don’t need you to tell me what that means / I don’t believe in that stuff anymore” — is reminiscent  of a little kid declaring they no longer believe in Santa Claus. Bridgers sounds embarrassed, feeling the need to express that she doesn’t actually think her dreams mean anything. At the same time, look at what she’s describing: her friends are bidding her goodbye as she drowns — a deeply powerful way to depict a coming of age.  “Killer,” the sixth track, explores her fear of abandonment by equating it to death, expressing the toxicity in these feelings — “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 expresses these demented feelings she has for her lover, blatanly saying she has contemplated killing them. She’ll never go through with it though because she would miss them too much — a childish sentiment to use as an argument against murder. Ninth track “Would You Rather” uses a child’s game as its title. The options presented in the first verse are dying in a fire or drowning, again painting this picture of death as a way to leave childhood behind. 

Even songs where a goodbye to childhood may not be as explicit and focus more on Bridgers’ experiences in toxic relationships like “Motion Sickness,” “Demi Moore,” and “Georgia,” it leaves an indelible mark on this heavy subject matter. “Motion Sickness” is about artist and producer Ryan Adams, who Bridgers has accused of being emotionally abusive during their brief relationship back in 2014. She was 20 years old at the time, whereas Adams was 40. “Georgia” focuses on a relationship from Bridgers’ teenage years and how self-conscious she felt throughout. The chorus — “And if I breathe you, will it kill me? / Will you have me, or watch me fall?” — not only equates Bridgers’ relationship to inhaling toxic gas, but calls out the lack of support she felt with them. “Demi Moore,” is about getting high and taking nude photos — underneath that, it’s about the intoxicating need for validation while alone and vulnerable. This song is so effective in demonstrating such, for lack of a better word, icky feelings. Those feelings are exactly why it's my least favorite song on the album. With a pleading tone in her voice and synthesizers that remind me of a wailing ghost, Bridgers puts me in that helpless state of mind both lyrically and sonically. As a child, watching Disney movies with fairytale endings and childish romantic comedies, it’s easy to imagine all relationships are perfect. Confronting these painful aspects of romance is unfortunately considered a part of growing up. By touching on this in Stranger in the Alps, Bridgers is acknowledging this loss of innocence. 

Fellow Pharbs reflect my sentiment on Stranger in the Alps expressing a goodbye to childhood, specifically with the resurgence of “Scott Street” as a popular sound on TikTok. In this trend, users detail the overwhelming feeling of growing up and wanting to return to a simpler time in childhood, often citing specific treasured memories that are now painful for them to return to. In the background of these videos, an edit of “Scott Street” plays — the train whistle and chime of a bicycle bell and repetition of the line “Anyway, don’t be a stranger.” There is something oddly profound in all these girls the same age as me on my “For You” Page, sharing moments of their childhood that I can relate to completely, who allow themselves to cry on a platform where everyone can see. . It speaks to how impactful Bridgers’ music is — something as small as a train whistle is moving people to tears — and it demonstrates the universal tragedy that is growing up. It hurts, but at least we’re all in this together. 

I didn’t start listening to Phoebe Bridgers until the summer after my senior year of high school. Despite being a former emo kid who was severely anxious, I don’t think Bridgers’ music would have resonated with me if I pressed play back when it was first released in 2017. There is a much heavier sadness depicted in her music — a sadness I wouldn’t have understood as a fourteen year old girl fresh out of middle school. I would have written her off completely. Now in 2022, I feel like I’m floating in limbo — I’m not a kid, but not an adult either — wishing to return to a simpler time, while feeling deeply afraid of what’s to come in actual adulthood. Stranger in the Alps embodies this for me. 

The growth we experience in between listens is why we should revisit albums — to continue to talk about the music that makes us feel. It’s a testament to the artist and their ability to articulate the feelings and touch the hearts of millions. And it’s no easy feat.