The making of a record, a permanent record, is not an easy thing to do. It can be done a billion ways. Fast or slow? Dirty or clean? Ethereal, elegant or celestial? Done in one take? In one day? Or layer upon layer, like a mille feuille or a set of matryoshka dolls, sometimes taking months or even years in the studio? Trust the excess then compress. No matter what or how, once it's done, it’s done and it is here to stay. Forever is a long time to regret a twelve note cluster. The result can be delicate as a dew drop or throb like Hustle Rose. Perhaps it’s the pulsating passion of pumping bass lines. Perhaps it’s the sprinkle of twinkling bells. Sometimes it’s the two together. But whether quirky or twerky, the songs that make up an album can take you, instantaneously, to brave new dances or long forgotten lives. It comes to you in a bottle bobbing among multitudes. And as the wind blows your vessel through the tides, it finds you as much as you find it. As it reaches the beaches of your mind, that set of sound waves becomes yours to ride or to let gently let wash over you. A moment with a beginning and an end. A sonic swell which you can mind surf as many times as you choose, reminding you every time of the who, when where what and how. Of the vastness of the emotion ocean. Everloving is our harbor of beauty. And daring. A port from which artists are encouraged to set out for the stars aware that ambitions can sometimes crash and burn you. And that dreams sometimes drift, lost in a galaxy, so close and yet so far. We are not a punk label, a soul label, a dance label, a world label or even an indie label. We are an independent, fuck labels, champion. Whether you’re from Honolulu, Kinshasa, Baltimore or San Diego. Paris, Stockholm or Tokyo or Chicago. Yes, Everloving, Independent Champions. Because Everloving vs Evil.