Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Texas/New York-based artist Lefty Parker.

Last month, Lefty Parker shared Ark via Airloom Records. The album was recorded in October of 2023 with Buck Meek – of whom Lefty has built a hearty collaborative and personal relationship upon the foundation of a shared love for songwriting, surfing, and tender creativity. The record’s live band also features Adam Brisbin and Jesse Turley, with additional contributions from Adrianne Lenker, Germaine Dunes, James Krivchenia, Michael Sachs, Mat Davidson of Twain and Michael Bushais.

Recently, I spoke with Lefty about seeking the same impact from music as the one experienced during one’s teenage years. It was a notion that resonated with me heavily, despite the fact that neither of us could quite articulate it in a way that surpassed the complexity of feelings that “music hit harder” amidst a more youthful time. Whenever I find myself enamored and vigorously moved by music, I notice that it’s a feeling I associate with being eighteen and “discovering” music for the first time. Perhaps there are nostalgia factors at play, but I also think it marks a time where one simultaneously develops in identity, and (at least in my experience), discovers music outside the realm of what is merely fed to you. Music that is not on the radio, perhaps music hatched from a slimmer budget, music that is not perfect and music that does not boast dozens of names credited behind it. Music that is complex, personal, interesting, humble. Music that makes you fall in love with music.

We were not doing an interview, this was merely a fleeting conversational moment I pocketed in between visits to the heaps of overstimulating dollar stores on Broadway, but when I sat down to write about Lefty’s latest record, I found myself returning to my own conclusions about music’s potency and adolescence. Ark is an album that sneaks up on you; it’s warm and grounded, it’s raw, but approachable. You do not quite notice the ways it burrows further upon each listen until it’s too late. Until you feel completely ambushed by the intense emotional weight within Lefty’s unfettered vocals, and their subtle but profound shifts. Until you find yourself entirely enamored by the airy strings and stunning woodwind accents. Until the vulnerable vignettes of Ark feel like your own. 

Ark is the kind of album that turns straw to gold. It’s a familiar twangy silhouette, relying on organic instrumentation and mosaics of heartache you have likely heard before. And yet, it manages to strike in a way that feels almost foreign, in the way that powerful art can elicit a feeling of hearing music for the first time. It’s a meandering tale of the diligence of experiencing life, of the never ending cycle of getting lost and finding yourself, of seeking guidance in things that feel larger than us. It’s a beautiful and comforting and human listen, and it’s one that can touch you regardless of the chapter of life you are currently amidst. 

You can listen to Lefty’s playlist HERE.

Written by Manon Bushong