'BEING HERE', the third album from Litvar, is a record about endings and new beginnings. Inspired by the loss of frontman Rex Thurstan's father, these story-driven songs shine a light on the long climb from grief to restoration, filled with folksy sounds, including the J-45 acoustic guitar that served as Thurstan's primary writing tool that expand beyond the band's critically-acclaimed indie rock sound. Caught halfway between the raw roots of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, the sonic experimentation of Wilco, and the electronic soundscapes of Brian Eno and Porter Robinson, 'BEING HERE' casts the widest net of Litvar's career. "It's a bare, stripped-back folk record," Thurstan says, "but it has a modern touch, too. You can't mistake it for old music, because the landscapes of each song are clearly contemporary." Working with drummer and chief collaborator Joe Lemieux, he created those landscapes at home in Connecticut, reaching out to guitarist Violet Falkowski and bassist John Blues McCarthy to help fill the album with melody, mood, and recurring motifs. The result is an intimate album for late nights and early mornings, encompassing everything from the sonic sweep of "Yeah I Know" and "Waiting For Something," upbeat songs that could've appeared on the band's first two releases, to the bare-boned, jazz-inspired shuffle of "Backstab." Throughout it all, there's no mistaking the sorrow and struggle that inspired these tracks. "We went so hard during our first three years as a band," admits Thurstan, who formed Litvar with Lemieux during the months before the Covid-19 pandemic. The band quickly found an audience with early singles like "Hi I'm Andy," but the growth came at a price. "By the time we were driving back home from LA after recording our second album, ‘ELOQUENTLY AIMLESS," he adds, "we were all hitting some life walls." For Thurstan, those walls felt unscalable. Reeling from the death of his father, he isolated himself for months, taking a break not only from social situations, but from music, too. He later returned to songwriting after buying his dream guitar, a Gibson J-45 acoustic, and dedicating himself to the challenge of turning his personal struggles into universal songs about loss, grief, and the light at the end of the tunnel. On "Belong," Thurstan drives home through darkened streets, uninspired by the daytime hours that have just elapsed. "I'm trying to feel like I belong here," he sings, his lonely voice echoing through the stillness. On "I Hate It Here," he turns the final words he ever spoke to his father, "Sure, I'll come by real soon,” into the song's opening lines, painting a melancholic picture that's all too familiar to those who've lost loved ones. "Backstab" even unfolds like the soundtrack to a lucid dissociation, fueled by slow-motion groove and late-night atmosphere. The first single, "What Kind of Man," finds Thurstan numbing out and navigating an identity crisis over a hook-heavy melody worthy of the Beatles. The song isn't an escape, though; it's a reckoning. "When I realized what a mess I was, and how much precious time I was letting slip through my fingers, I jolted awake from my trance," Thurstan remembers. "I genuinely asked myself, 'What kind of man am I? Who would do this? I am thankful for this song, because the me I am at this moment couldn’t have been possible without the awakening that transpired after writing this song. In other words, it is a song about turning a new leaf, and taking the wheel again." Taking the wheel doesn't mean you necessarily know the best path forward, and the anthemic "Yeah I Know" tackles the uncertainty that comes with a panic attack. "If 'What Kind of Man' is about taking control of your life, then 'Yeah I Know' is about losing control," says Thurstan. "It is a psychic watershed moment. Some breakdowns feel like you’ve passed the point of no return; this one is like that." Even so, 'BEING HERE' does find its narrator returning to a new normal. As the album progresses, so does Thurstan's emotional recovery. "Real Life” explores the balance between longing for life to go exactly as you've planned and learning to trust the unpredictable journey that ultimately shapes who you'll become. "The chorus is about dwelling on everything that's gone wrong," he says, "but perhaps if everything went your way all the time, would that really be all that great?" The gentle "When You Come Home" is an unconditional love song about the grace we give to the friends who need it, and the final track, "Leaving Seattle," sees Thurstan returning to work and rededicating himself to a better life. "This album is about getting through a traumatic loss," he says. "'Leaving Seattle' holds your hand on the way out of some of the heaviest songs I’ve written. It is about the end of a depression, it is about things getting better, and it’s about the beginning of the next story." 'BEING HERE' is meant to be heard in its entirety — and for those who stay for the full thing, it's both empathetic and electrifyingly emotional. "We'll always have glitches and vocal chops and synthesizers in our songs, but this is the least electronic thing we've ever done," says Thurstan. "It's as raw as we get. During a time of AI, we felt it was important to sound as honest and real as possible." Litvar have reinvented themselves with 'BEING HERE'. Once celebrated as torchbearers of early 21st-century indie rock, they've transformed themselves into folk-inspired storytellers and genre-benders. Born from loss, 'BEING HERE' is ultimately about rebirth and rejuvenation — a reminder that when one door closes, another opens.