With a couple years worth of EPs crammed under the digital mattress, Aaron Osbourne's Life Partner has finally transitioned from belching out its bedroom-born, single-guitar (often single-note-at-a-time) recordings to what we have at hand -- a strangely crisp yet no-less-loose assortment of lo-fi folk scum which appears to have taken shape as a "band." This time around, Osbourne took a new batch of his bluesy bum-pop to buddy Eric Oij's apartment. "Dogs," the result. A 26-minute drag through the dust of dried-out dreams toward the unconvincing promises of a still-broke, still-bummed, still-drunk dawn. Perhaps a new "Nebraska," for those willing to listen. This is a record about starting over. It's a sonic transition as much as it is, itself, about transition. It's about moving back to once-home Louisville for a week, only to return to now-home Chicago, for good, without a tail between his legs (pun somewhat intended). This record is about never quitting, even if your backing band does. It's about getting older, channeling anger, bodily transformations, living with a pack of fucking dogs in your mom's kitchen, talking shit, and even dancing at times. A weary celebration, but a celebration nonetheless. It took 8 months to record 7 songs. They re-recorded the drums several times, played the guitar through a bass amp, did all the bass tracks stoned on a Sunday afternoon while Dallon Adams was in town, and hammered the last few nails in just in time for 2012. This is Life Partner's "Dogs," a limited-edition cassette on Sophomore Lounge. Enjoy.