This is where days feel more complete, living here with you.
I was a failure.
That’s what I found myself thinking in late June 2013, two months removed from my college graduation. It turns out that landing a good job right out of school is hard, especially when you graduate in the middle of an epic economic recession. Heck, I didn’t even need it to be a good job: I was sending out dozens of resumes and cover letters a day, and most of the jobs I was applying for sounded like soul-sucking nightmares that would have quickly squeezed my zest for life out of my body like I was a tube of toothpaste. But I was desperate, and I was demoralized, and I was starting to panic, and I would have taken damn near any life preserver thrown my way.
I didn’t want to feel this way (understatement), especially not at the dawn of a new summer (historically, my favorite time of year), and especially not with a brand-new album from my favorite band of the moment (The Dangerous Summer) burning a hole in my laptop’s hard drive. During two of the most consequential summers of my life – 2009, between my high school graduation and my first semester of college; and 2011, when I needed to reboot after a dreadful sophomore year – The Dangerous Summer had been there to provide the soundtrack. Those summers had both proved glorious, and having this band’s music in near-constant rotation was a big part of the reason why. With The Dangerous Summer set to release a new album, called Golden Record, in the summer of 2013, I hoped I’d be all set for another glorious season.
Golden Record wasn’t due out until August 6, but I got my hands on an advance stream around mid-June. The first single, opening track “Catholic Girls,” had blown the roof off my brain when it dropped early that month, and I couldn’t wait to hear what The Dangerous Summer had in store for album number 3. On their first two albums, 2009’s Reach for the Sun and 2011’s War Paint, this pop-punk band from Baltimore had delivered quintessential coming-of-age music, full of romantic yearning, aching nostalgia, twentysomething malaise, and ambitious optimism for the future. Their music was catchy enough to be ideal for windows-down summer drives, but emotional enough to deliver deep, meaningful catharsis when I needed it most. It’s another understatement to say that I hold both of those albums near and dear to my heart.
Read More “My Life In 35 Songs, Track 25: “Miles Apart” by The Dangerous Summer”





