Sharon Van Etten
Tramp

You fix your gaze on Sharon's eyes on the cover of her latest album, "Tramp". You stare and realize you have a friend before you, a confidante. Sharon, black hair, smooth and shiny. Dark, penetrating eyes. With her guitar in hand and her voice, she wins you over immediately. She confides in you, expresses herself freely and without frills. She becomes your best friend, the girl who knows everything about you and whom you've known for a lifetime.

She starts “Give Out” and you see her there, your friend, sitting on the couch with her knees pulled to her chest, looking out the window and letting out her pain for lost love. For that man she loved so much and now hates. You can't do anything but put a hand on her shoulder and tell her she will never be alone, that you will always support her. She turns and smiles melancholically. In the sweetness of “Leonard” there's something that reminds you of those September days spent with your best friend lying on the grass, barefoot, laughing as she photographs every insect and flower with an old Polaroid. The sun on her white face, a dried leaf in her hair. Unfortunately, those times are now long gone, and now you are adults. Sharon sings out loud “All I Can”. Your friend is now a woman, no longer the girl you were infatuated with. Negative experiences have forged her into a lioness character that takes you by surprise. And the more you listen to Sharon's words, the more you realize you still love that woman who was once your friend, almost a sister. And while the songs flood your house, and Sharon's voice enchants you. You try to dial her number. She answers, and surprised, you can't even utter a syllable. It's me, you finally say with a trembling voice, how are you? I'm fine, thank you, she replies. We're both fine, I think. Miles separate us, two lives now completely separate and different. She is no longer your best friend, but deep down, you still care for her. She says goodbye and hangs up. The duet between Sharon and Zach Condon tears your heart apart. “We Are Fine,” they say with their splendid voices. We are fine, everything is fine.

In the end, you are left with only the assurance of having a soundtrack to remember that girl who grew up with you, who made you laugh, who moved you, who supported you. That girl you loved and wished would stay with you, forever by your side. Thank you, Sharon, for these twelve tracks soaked in memories, in pain, but above all in strength and positivity. The music ends. Life goes on.