There is a very specific kind of grief that reshapes an entire artistic identity, and Being Here documents exactly that transformation across eleven tracks tracing Rex Thurstan’s genuine journey from devastating personal loss toward something resembling genuine restoration. Litvar‘s third album emerged directly from the death of Thurstan’s father, and rather than obscuring that origin behind more comfortable metaphorical distance, the record commits fully toward chronicling that specific grief process with considerable narrative honesty, using a Gibson J-45 acoustic guitar as primary compositional tool to strip away much of the band’s established indie rock production in favor of something considerably more raw and immediate.
It Takes Magic opens the record, and that title suggests genuine acknowledgment regarding how difficult authentic transformation and healing actually requires, positioning wonder or genuine grace as necessary component within whatever recovery process the album subsequently traces across its remaining tracks. Belong follows with Thurstan documenting a specific late-night drive through darkened streets, his voice carrying genuine isolation as he sings about actively trying to feel like he genuinely belongs within his own surrounding life. That specific imagery, driving alone through darkness while questioning fundamental belonging, establishes the album’s willingness toward sitting inside genuine discomfort rather than rushing toward premature resolution.
Real Life examines the tension between wanting life to unfold exactly according toward careful planning versus learning genuine trust regarding life’s inherently unpredictable actual trajectory. Thurstan has described the song’s chorus specifically dwelling on everything that has gone wrong, while simultaneously questioning whether a life unfolding entirely according toward plan would genuinely prove as valuable as the messier, more unpredictable reality most people actually experience. That philosophical tension gives the track genuine depth beyond simple complaint, using personal reflection toward examining broader questions regarding how meaning actually gets constructed through adversity rather than despite it.
What Kind of Man, the album’s lead single, finds Thurstan documenting genuine identity crisis over what has been described as hook-heavy melody carrying real Beatles influence. Rather than functioning as pure escapism, Thurstan has explained the song functions specifically as genuine reckoning, the moment he recognized how thoroughly he had been letting precious time slip away while numbing himself against genuine engagement with his own difficult circumstances. That awakening, asking himself directly what kind of man would allow that particular pattern to continue, apparently marked genuine turning point within his broader recovery process, and the song itself functions as documented artifact of that specific psychological shift.
Yeah I Know continues that emotional excavation while examining considerably different territory, specifically tackling genuine panic attack and the accompanying loss of control that experience produces. Thurstan has directly contrasted this track against What Kind of Man specifically, describing that earlier song as concerning taking control while this one concerns genuinely losing it entirely, functioning as what he calls genuine psychic watershed moment where recovery felt considerably less certain than forward progress typically suggests. That willingness toward including genuine setback alongside forward movement gives Being Here real psychological accuracy, refusing to present healing as smooth, uninterrupted linear progression.
Stay the Same and Waiting for Something continue the album’s considerable emotional journey, with that second track specifically noted as carrying genuine sonic sweep that could have appeared comfortably within the band’s earlier catalog, suggesting Litvar’s established indie rock instincts remain genuinely present even within this considerably more folk-oriented overall record. Backstab introduces genuinely different sonic territory specifically, described as bare-boned, jazz-inspired shuffle that unfolds like genuine soundtrack toward lucid dissociation, using slow-motion groove and late-night atmosphere toward capturing psychological experience that more conventional song structure might struggle toward representing convincingly.
When You Come Home offers genuinely gentle counterpoint within the album’s broader emotional intensity, functioning as what Thurstan describes as unconditional love song specifically examining the grace people extend toward friends genuinely struggling and requiring that particular support. I Hate It Here confronts Thurstan’s grief most directly, opening specifically with the final words he ever actually spoke toward his father, a promise regarding visiting soon that never had opportunity toward fulfillment. That specific, devastating detail gives the track genuine emotional weight extending well beyond more generalized grief songwriting, grounding the album’s broader themes within one specific, deeply personal moment that countless listeners who have experienced similar loss will likely recognize immediately.
Leaving Seattle closes the album, and Thurstan has described this final track specifically as holding listeners’ hands through the considerable heaviness preceding it, marking genuine conclusion toward the depression this album documents while simultaneously representing the beginning of whatever comes next within his continuing life story. That closing framing gives Being Here genuine narrative completion, moving from initial isolation and grief through considerable psychological struggle before arriving at something resembling genuine, hard-won stability and forward motion.
What gives this album particular significance within Litvar’s broader artistic trajectory is understanding how thoroughly it represents genuine reinvention from their earlier established indie rock identity, previously built through early singles like Hi I’m Andy before their considerable Los Angeles recording sessions for their second album Eloquently Aimless left the band, by Thurstan’s own admission, hitting genuine life walls that eventually necessitated this considerable creative departure. Working alongside longtime collaborator and drummer Joe Lemieux, alongside guitarist Violet Falkowski and bassist John Blues McCarthy, Thurstan built these songs specifically at home in Connecticut, a considerably more intimate, controlled environment than the band’s previous recording circumstances presumably provided.
Thurstan has been explicit regarding this album representing the least electronic material Litvar has ever produced, a deliberate choice reflecting genuine desire toward sounding as honest and authentically real as possible specifically during what he describes as a current moment increasingly saturated with artificial intelligence generated content. That stated intention gives Being Here additional context, an artist deliberately choosing genuine rawness and stripped-back instrumentation specifically as counterpoint against broader technological trends, insisting on human vulnerability and genuine documented struggle as legitimate artistic response worth preserving and foregrounding.
By combining genuine narrative specificity regarding personal loss alongside considerable stylistic range spanning folk, jazz-influenced shuffle, and lingering indie rock sensibility, Litvar has built Being Here into a genuinely cohesive, emotionally complete artistic statement. This album succeeds specifically because it refuses toward simplifying grief into either pure devastation or premature uplift, instead documenting the genuinely difficult, nonlinear actual process connecting those two states honestly across its full eleven-track journey. Meant to be experienced completely rather than through isolated individual tracks, Being Here ultimately delivers exactly what its creator intended, genuine testament toward how devastating loss can eventually transform into rebirth, provided someone remains willing toward documenting every difficult step of that considerable, uncertain journey honestly along the way.
