Luomo - "Tessio". I hate the term "microhouse" as much as the next guy, but maybe the next guy hasn't heard Luomo. For me, this song's everything I still need to say to the love of my life—the guy who needed to "be on his own" after three years. Those words that you can recite over and over in your head, but when the moment comes—when your heart starts beating and the music swells—all you can muster are echos and portions of those words. It's a beautifully jumbled stammer of apologies, confessions, and idol worship.

That's not to say this song [or the entire album The Present Lover] is just for lying around at home with your tea, photo albums, and that ill-advised fleece throw blanket. I took it with me for a walk two days ago. It played seven times on repeat over the course of an hour and a half. I suggest you take it with you in the lengthened late afternoon sun. I don't suggest, however, that you fill a sippy cup with malt liquor and take it with you. Stumbling home with an mp3 player in hand is not cool.

i guess you turn me on
when you're gone.
for me, it didn't go wrong;
we just made another song
both getting it alone,
never asking it for long.
it's just that the world ain't enough,
and it never was
for the two of us

i guess you make me warm
when you do the harm,
making everybody calm,
getting creative with your charm.
i'm trying to be all yours;
although i ain't answering your calls.
don't say it's false;
i'm only following my thoughts.

baby it's ok,
we'll make it better.
baby, i, i'll survive,
without these women in my life.