DL is OK. It’s a statement about the guy’s disposition - looking for fun on the beaches and barstools of New York, not always finding it, but ultimately doing all right. He’s the kind of guy that makes music that’s easy to love, as much a product of his parents record collection as misguided teenage listening. His stuff is earnest and full of guitars and melodic bits that are so obvious to love that you wonder where they’ve been all this time. It’s perfect for bright outdoor hangs and dark interior unwinds. It’s Tom Petty and Teenage Fanclub and those keyboards and snares that are all over every 80s record you forget you love until you find them in a jukebox at 3AM.
The story isn’t important, but here it is anyway: the guy moved to New York to play music, and spent the better part of a decade passing through recording studios (an an engineer), rehearsal spaces (as a player), a small retail store (as the boss), and apartments with empty refrigerators. And bars. A lot of bars. It gave him some perspective. It gave him good friends. It gave him songs.
Paired well with an adult beverage or an herbal cigarette, DL's music showcases both musical and autobiographical outtakes from his past, a sardonic consideration of the future and supports the notion of just saying fuck it, sometimes it’s nice to float through the middle of it all.