Sharon Van Etten’s third album, Tramp, is an extremely introspective and emotional record. Have you ever walked in on somebody crying their heart out to a close friend of theirs? Instead of the “get the hell out of here!” teary-eyed look one would expect, Van Etten’s raspy yet soothing hum, akin to Kathleen Edward’s folkier acoustic work, welcomes the listener in as if to say “I don’t mind bearing my soul to a total stranger.” The album parks the listener Continue reading
the self-hating hipster 