Getting Into: Lovett

Let me just say this: it's invariably more difficult to describe an artist you're doodying your pants over when his name is the exact way you feel about him.

 This shit is for real, people. The word's usually saved for things like 70 degree days, lunches at Shake Shack and everything Balenciaga sends down the runway, but if that soulful dance party of a jam "Heartattack" ain't perfect, I don't know what is.

We first heard of Ben Lovett the same night we missed his set in Austin from a set time snafu and a jam band performance that went on way too long, but if there's one thing SXSW caused us to do besides stock up on Kashi and frozen vegetables to re-wire our bodies off of sauce-slathered meats, it was to kick ourselves for about ten days straight over the fatal error of missing this raspy stunner's set. 

We can't recommend this one enough. Just try your best to not get sidetracked by a room full of djembes and a sitar like we did.

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