Gold Motel
It’s officially June, but apparently the clockwork SoCal weather has decided such is not the case, opting to go bipolar instead. I love jacket weather and I love tank weather too, but I need continuity with either. When I wake up in Phoenix, I don’t expect to be standing on the streets of Chicago by sundown, just sayin’. At the very least, when I’m blasting the Gold Motel jams on the iPod, everything is the storybook summer that indie teen-coming-of-age films are made of. Frontwoman Greta Salpeter’s odes to youth and love ballads to the West Coast will effortlessly evoke all those warm memories you should have of your more carefree years. With her signature even-keeled classic try to be sexy, and emotive without being cloying. So even if you weren’t living the 20-something dream of road trips, bougie theme parties and alcohol-induced legal hijinks, Gold Motel can at least let you have them vicariously. - Brien Overly
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