Editor's Note: A similar version of this article was first published in the Brandeis Hoot on Sept. 13. Justice editors were unaware of this fact at the time of publication on Sept. 17 and regret the error. 

"Limerence is the scientific word for the chemical state of your body when you're falling in love. Ever since I heard that word I wanted to write a song about it, and name an album after it." This summer, Hailey Magee '15 did just that. Released on Aug. 24, Limerence is Magee's second EP, a seven-song endeavor written and recorded during the past eight months.

Thematically, it's all about limerence-about that very interesting and artistically fruitful space between falling in love and hitting the ground-or in the case of this album, the bedroom.

Admittedly, I initially felt a bit girly pumping this through the stereo in my dorm room-a stark contrast from the Yeezus I had been blasting prior to streaming the EP from her Bandcamp site. But after a bit of listening, after about a minute, actually, I stopped feeling insecure about my masculinity and let Magee's smooth vocals and engaging lyrics take me to New York City and through the rest of this EP's intimate, personal stories of whisky, sex on couches, letting go and falling asleep gazing at the light of a skyline.

Magee's canvas for this EP is a simple, traditional singer-songwriter style fabric of acoustic guitar and vocals, with a little bit of multi-tracking. Her understated guitar work and occasionally eyebrow-raising chord changes reveal an experienced musician. She's more sophisticated and nuanced than a "four-chord guitarist," but she certainly doesn't bash you over the head with it. As competent as the guitar work is, though, Limerence more prominently features Magee's voice and her songwriting.

The album has the sound of live-recorded vocals; none of her vocals' character is lost through the recording. Despite how good she sounds, at times it feels like she's still trying to find her own vocal style. For example, more aptly, she chose to take on the vocal aesthetic of a different pop sub-genre. When she does this, namely on tracks two and three, "Heartprint" and "Never Sleeps Alone," she loses a bit of her voice's unique and alluring personality. It's a bit unclear exactly what she's going for; the changes in style are a bit unexpected and even jarring.

Yet even in those songs, her rock-solid lyrics keep the album from dragging. Her hooks and imagery are strong-for the most part she doesn't sacrifice content for catchiness. Many moments are indelible. At times, she meanders from the lyrical tightness she set us up to expect with the first song, "& Company." Some of her choruses meander toward questionable vagueness, but she tends to wrap them up with a memorable line that clarifies the preceding lyrics.

"Armistice," "& Company" and "Limerence" are definitely stand-out tracks on the EP. They feel like part of a cohesive and well-conceived personal style. The vocals sound less affected-truer to the natural character of Magee's voice-and they're the best written of the songs.

Above all, Magee has earnestly spilled herself into this EP. While you probably won't stand up and dance, it's hard not to smile and nod along to the catchy tunes. That is hardly a complaint-any sort of more elaborate dancing may distract you from the EP's engaging storytelling.

Emotionally, the tracks stay in that easy-to-accept, slightly moody middle ground-and that's what thematically it's all about: the middle ground, the uncertainty of false starts accompanied by cautious optimism. Each song has a slightly different stylistic influence, but they're all really about the struggles of finding yourself, and as part of that, finding out who you are in the context of others.

Overall, I was satisfied with this EP. There's enough pop flair to keep the casual top-40 listener engaged, but also enough substance to warrant a thorough examination and a cheap four dollar download. What it lacks in complexity or extravagance is more than made up for by the palpable amount of sincerity on each track.