Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros: Holy folk.

Him: “Jade?”
Her: “Alexander.”
Him: “Do you remember that day you fell outta my window?”
Her: “I sure do, you came jumping out after me.”
Him: “Well, you fell on the concrete, nearly broke your ass, you were bleeding all over the place and I rushed you out to the hospital, you remember that?”
Her: “Yes I do.”
Him: “Well there’s something I never told you about that night.”
Her: “What didn’t you tell me?”
Him: “While you were sitting in the backseat smoking a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last, I was falling deep, deeply in love with you, and I never told you til just now.”

Probably the most adorable interlude ever recorded, from the track “Home” on Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros’ album “Up from Below.”

Alex Ebert, former front man for electro-pop crew Ima Robot, has abandoned his synthesized and sinning ways in favour of Edward Sharpe. The occasionally 16-piece band toured America in a giant white school bus last year, bringing some sincere folk with them. Why I have discovered this gem so late, I have no idea.

Imagine you have had a fairly north-American terrible day (let’s not get too deep here. I’m thinking your fish died, you failed heavily at work, broke up with your significant other and forgot your mother’s birthday.) All of a sudden you hear something out of no where, clear as folk: something honest, a little bit quirky, and almost unbearably happy. The first time I heard “Home” all the way through I didn’t stop grinning until I’d forgotten what I was grinning about. I looked like a doofus. You forget about the fish, the performance issues, the significant other, your mom- it’s free escapism. You want to invite everyone to the party in your ears.

So when you have a minute, obviously after apologizing profusely to your mother, you’re cordially invited to the party in my ears.