This is my first “write lovingly about a record but don’t actually describe the music all that much” review, but it’s really the concept and emotions behind Living With Yourself that make is so good anyway. The genius here is that McGuire has totally loaded-up his instrumental music with context without the record toppling over. So there are just all these completely relatable caves of meaning behind really beautiful, bittersweet instrumental music. To me, it’s like anti-chillwave in the sense that it isn’t about sitting around, hanging out, or a half-guilty contemplation of “a life of leisure,” it’s about asserting the very specific problems that arise from growing up suburban, to a family that loved you a whole lot, and maybe a little too much.
Living With Yourself is about experience, and the way in which the building-up, inevitable breaking down, and occasional rebuilding of relationships permanently alters the lives of everyone involved, whether they like it or not. McGuire investigates this through contemplative guitar work adorned with cryptic, pointed references to family, friends, and lovers: proper nouns in the song titles, the family photos on the album cover, the audio from home movies that preface the first and last track…
