If anyone ever tried to claim that they've come out of a relationship, serious or not, completely unscathed or unaffected, they'd probably only be fooling themselves. Mr. Lugavere is a great example of a person who dealt with his relationship woes and fought through it by mourning, venting, recollecting, and finally, acquainting himself with the new, enlightened Max. His documented journey is delivered in the form of his first EP, One Year Later.
Max Lugavere's straightforward lyrics surely don't leave you guessing. Accompanied by his trusty acoustic guitar, he's got something on his mind and he's going to express it honestly, eloquently, and poetically. There's a quiet, vulnerable, yet hopeful vibe that this EP gives off.
It's obvious that Max was torn between giving up and giving in, and he used his music making abilities as sort of one long therapy session. While there are many great therapeutic advantages from expressing one's hardships through music, we, as listeners, also get to enjoy the end result as a beautifully expressive piece of art. In his own words:
"I basically crafted the EP to be somewhat of a concept album. I feel like from start to finish, the songs convey the arc of a breakup that I experienced, ending with a somewhat hopeful note on 'Weather Advisory.'"
Although the EP is only 5 tracks long, it's impressively accurate as it goes through the motions of an emotional roller coaster that I'm sure we've all come to know at least once in our lives, which is why this EP can feel so relatable on many different levels. Think about it: when you're on that dreaded journey of getting over someone you've deeply cared about, what kind of music do you listen to? Certainly not Abba (I'd hope). You most likely listen to something that nurses and nourishes your emotional wounds, something you can get a grasp on while riding that slippery slope... something that you listen to and immediately think "UGH... YES!! That's what I couldn't put into words!"
Max Lugavere conveys that perfectly. And just like a bad breakup, there's eventually that unforeseeable hopeful light at the end of the tunnel, the light that you swore would never come. On this EP, that light comes in the form of "Weather Advisory." That hope is perfectly emulated in this excerpt: "I've boarded up my windows, baby / for when the sky surrenders to the sea / calamity can somehow be poetry."
It's true... what was once destroyed can be rebuilt even stronger than before, if you surrender to the healing process.