Why Phoebe Bridgers’s Take on the Breakup Song Matters in the Age of #MeToo

Phoebe Bridgers’ 2017 single “Motion Sickness” has all the hallmarks of a typical indie song: absurd and specific lyrics, ethereal vocals, and experimental instrumentals. It’s a poignant yet scathing reflection of a past relationship with Ryan Adams, a musician and the owner of the record label PAX-AM known for his successful solo albums and his cover of Taylor Swift’s “1989.” In “Motion Sickness,” Bridgers vividly addresses the pain and the aftertaste of an imbalanced relationship with Adams.

But “Motion Sickness” has deeper implications in light of the recent allegations against Adams. In a recently published exposé by the New York Times, Adams was accused of emotional abuse and sexual harassment by several women, one of whom was Bridgers. Taking these revelations into account, “Motion Sickness,” is no longer just a song that describes one circumstantially incompatible relationship. It’s part of the larger picture of how Adams exploited the power imbalance between himself and promising female musicians.

Bridgers directly confronts her relationship with Adams. The titular lyric, “I have emotional motion sickness / somebody roll the windows down,” alludes to the emotional turmoil of an abusive relationship — a sick-to-the-stomach, visceral sense that something is amiss along with the knowledge that it would be difficult to break free. Lyrics like “There are no words in the English language / I could scream to drown you out” reflect the lasting trauma that can remain after a hurtful and exploitative relationship and acknowledge that abuse is not a trivial matter, but rather an unabated constant that taints future experiences.

Bridgers’s experience as told through “Motion Sickness” seems to describe another iteration of Adams’s tendency to exploit female musicians. By detailing her own relationship with Adams, Bridgers corroborates other similar accounts of female musicians who were in the same position of being Adams’ pretty musical project instead of his partner — how he promised to bolster their careers while allegedly trapping them in a toxic, harassing relationship, essentially forcing these women to choose between their well-being or their musical career.

While the lyrics to “Motion Sickness” offer insight to the nature of Adams’s unacceptable behavior, the existence of this song reveals Bridgers’ strength. By pursuing relationships in which he could take advantage of his influence in the music industry to exploit women, Adams took away the musical independence of these budding female artists and left many of them with a disillusioned attitude toward making music. Yet the existence of this song suggests that Bridgers was able to break free from Adams and his toxic behavior, taking back what belonged to her — her musicality — which she possessed all along. Bridgers’s unfiltered take in the form of sharp songwriting is a message that she was able to reclaim some of her independence and passion for music, even after she was in a relationship where both were jeopardized.

On a broader scale, this account in the form of a song can provide a sense of hope for all who have endured harassment or abuse within their careers — hope that it’s possible to find the strength to break free from controlling, exploitative relationships and reclaim autonomy. “Motion Sickness” therefore becomes not only a testimony of pain, but also a powerful example of fortitude.

In response to these allegations brought forth against him, Adams released a series of tweets that apologized superficially but still denied any culpability — the eye-rollingly predictable response of men who want to appear sympathetic and in-touch while also shirking responsibility of their actions. The influx of responses from many women is standing against Adams’s word right now. Perhaps “Motion Sickness” can provide an additional perspective — a musical one — sung from a place of sincere hurt that contributes to the various accounts from other women that can hold Adams fully accountable.