Normally if and when someone asks me to check out their boyfriend's music I usually run straight for the fucking hills. Nine out of ten times the album will be a complete turdfest and then you're put in the awkward position of having to find some small throwaway compliment (I loved the way he used handclaps in that one song") to shoot back at this lovelorn girl who sees her dude as the next Bon Iver. He might have a beard and live in a snowy cabin but he is no Justin Vernon. Please stop sharing his album with people. If this dude REALLY cared for you he'd ask you not to spread his sad sounds around town.
Nine out of ten times it is a total shit show.
Then there's that one. That one fucking magical time when the girlfriend isn't wearing rose colored glasses and panties. Calvin Love's New Radar is that one time. THIS album is why you have to sit and listen to all of the other girlfriend's false gods.
Two things should have alerted me that this wouldn't be a normal run of the mill favor listen. First off the person who recommended the listen books talent for a Venice venue so she knows what's up. Secondly she prefaced the share by labeling Calvin Love as her Ex. Does that not speak volumes about an album? It either meant Radar was tight as shit or she was hung up on love. Bad. Turns out it was the former. I mean sure it could the latter as well but the former will always trump the latter. This album is the tits.
The very first thing I did after getting through two songs was hit up Timmy Bakes and let him know I was reserving a Bandcamp slot for this album because it was so damn tasty and I couldn't find just one track to share on Track Marks. I then went out to Best Buy and bought some giant ass studio monitor headphones so I could really get crushed by all the sounds coming from this DIY rocker. The headphones are ridiculous and bulky as Fuck but lead tracks "Konica" and "Destroyrer" sound that much grander with them on. Lo-Fi never sounded so big.
While listening to the album over and over and over again I couldn't shake the feeling that Calvin Love was the chilled out bastard love child of Paul Westerberg and Jeff Buckley. No wonder this chick was (questionably) hung up on this dude. Who could fault her? The drum looping opening jam on "Waiting on You" was making me fall hard for him as well...in a totally normal healthy hetero way.
Everyone go grab this for free and or with a donation of your choice over at his bandcamp asap...and remember Bromancing from here on out called Cal love.
Calvin, I love you, Man.