Lovers from Portland, Oregon, genuinely glow raw, endearing sincerity. To me, listening to the tracks feels like enjoying a warm sunny day on a basketball court where the chain-link is bent and perhaps a little rusty and grass grows up through the cracks on the pavement around the court, but the sky is clear and the sweat is real and the exhiliration of the experience on the court with a bunch of other heavy-breathing players is incomparably fulfilling.
Carolyn, the lead singer and guitar player, exudes effortless, tousled folk-rockstar appeal. Her voice and delivery possess a settling gravity, enjoyable solo with only her subtle guitar accompaniment. Kerby offers harmonies and plays an aesthetically intriguing setup (she made the portable stand from pvc pipe pieces…very cool!) of synth keys plus percussion. Emily drums on the kit with added hand drum and shaker goodies. The band’s material revolves around discovery and revelry in proud sexuality. Some of the lyrics are really clever – all facets of the performance are heartfelt. Lovers pour themselves into each of their songs, conveying a palpable edginess through their apparent emotional investment.
Lovers seem to embody the solution to the age-old mysterious equation, “the whole is bigger than the sum of its parts” plus a little sprinkle of magic for good measure. There’s a special quality to this band imparted through their music. Maybe it’s the feeling of expansion of heart when you listen.
Don’t You Want It touches on a nerve of universal feeling with clever lyrics, guitar, hand drumming, shakers, keyboard effects and the build of a bouncy groove you can’t help but move to.
In No Regrets, Carolyn’s singing curiously evokes Johnny Cash in the intro before the chorus. Then, accented by airy synth and combined with lines like, “a lip gloss shade named dandelion…,” the song gives way to all out queerdom, changing the tone considerably.
Listen to the tracks (option/click to download):
Lovers on Myspace.