I have never gravitated towards astrology as a tactic for measuring compatibility. Perhaps it’s because I have never done ample zodiac research – instead I turn to slightly more specific litmus tests , like do you insist on using a Brita? Or, what lo-fi bedroom project resonates the deepest with you? Sometimes, the latter is merely a matter of surveying one’s thoughts on the Brooklyn based project, People I Love. It is a somewhat self-serving probe, with lines like “my relationship with words has a gold key” and reoccurring  grievances pertaining to attending parties – People I Love’s discography is chock-full of anthems for the socially reserved. But, even if your Myers Briggs begins with an “E”, I think there is a grandeur weaved carefully into People of Love that requires a certain level of intentional and emotionally aware listening to fully appreciate (therefor setting it up as personality assessment gold). Within tracks that rarely surpass three minutes and structures that aren’t trying to prove themselves, there are parcels of complex emotions tucked in the intimate and lived in corners of each song, and an opulence that grows with each listen.

Today, People I Love shared new track, “Perfect.” Featuring Avery Kaplan on drums, as well as and guitar, piano, and slide contributions from Boone Patrello (Dead Sullivan), it’s a song about longing to be perfect…maybe. It strays from commercialized notions of perfection, dodging 9pm bed times, self-improvement books, and $16 green juices (although if I were a hypothetical gym rat, I could see the bridge pushing me to an arm day PR) and instead prods at something darker. “Perfect” opens with going about felt the bloody air / spying around find a violent stare wanna explode – but even without this lyrical agony, the track in its entirety flirts with detonation. Leading with a fleeting warmth that quickly transcends to an intense, pressure cooker kind of heat, “Perfect” conveys a dysregulated mood threatening to burst. The general soundscape is a moving target, springing from cascades of dejected guitar, quirky pitch bending, angular percussion, and Dan Poppa’s signature frothy vocals. It’s also rather catchy, sure to have you seething “wish I was perfect, my blood they’ll inject it” throughout this (appropriately timed) week. 

Written by Manon Bushong