Each Tuesday, FADER editor Matthew Schnipper highlights an underappreciated recent release he thinks we need to know about. This week it's Babytalk's "Chance" 12-inch. Listen to the tracks from the record on his label's MySpace, buy the music ($2.97!) there and read Schnipper's thoughts on the record after the jump.

That is my roommate Justin. He has “no remorse” tattooed in script across his chest, a Black Sabbath tattoo in his armpit, brand new elk around his upper arm. He wears a lot of plaid and tight jeans. We have the same coat, because I bought it after him because I liked it. Every time I walk into the house and he is home alone some very loud music made by guitars (black metal or epic drone) is playing from his room. It sounds good because he is the kind of person who spends the money on good speakers. In a week, he moves out of the apartment and back to Wisconsin.

I am an emotional person who is affected by everything. A few weeks ago I went to see Rachel Getting Married alone. I cried two times and after the film wandered around with no purpose because I felt harsh, I felt bad. I went to Momofuku, a place I often eat alone, and sat at the counter, had ginger scallion noodles and a blueberry soda. There is a girl that works there, she is always nice. Right then, eating pumpkin softserve, I thought about how she is maybe my favorite person because she is so polite and leaves you alone. Later I realized that was her job. I still like her, though. I told this all to Justin a few days later. I think he just laughed. He should, it’s funny.

When Justin moved into the apartment two years ago they came to replace the bedroom doors at eight on a Saturday morning, inept guys with giant buzzsaws. We sat on the couch and watched Jackass 2 on the laptop I had from my sales job at Putumayo. A few months later he designed a window installation for me that was just photos of my face and writing about myself, later he redesigned my resume. Any piece of clothing he bought in the last two years he has shown me within six hours of purchase. About a year ago he asked me to buy a new shower curtain because I work across the street from Home Depot and he was working in the middle of nowhere, never leaving Brooklyn. I didn’t buy it for about three weeks and finally one day I came home and there was a new shower curtain. He was annoyed, sorry about that, Justin.

On Saturday he had a going away karaoke party that I didn’t go to because shotgunning beers and three hours of Phil Collins is too much. I shotgunned a beer once, on New Year’s Eve and I totally didn’t finish the beer, I just drink slow. As a metaphor, he understands that. When he was at karaoke I was at home with my friend Brian who lived in Justin’s room before Justin. Brian looked at the new condos across the street and told me the location of my apartment is great and if I ever leave I will be sad about that. I want to leave, I don’t want to leave. Akita, Brian’s girlfriend, was drunk, so we got more drinks (ginger beer + Jameson) and drank it. Akita rearranged Justin’s graphic design-y letter blocks so it said “Good luck Justin” with a heart next to it. Then she wondered where her friends were, but her phone died so she couldn’t tell. We listened to “My Girls” by Animal Collective over and over. I don’t mean to seem like I care about material things, like a social status/ I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls against the sound of parades on beaches in space at twilight during the end of Yom Kippur when your parents have been making you fast. (Did I tell you that when I was in Mexico a few weeks ago there were flamingos? That I saw flamingos and the ocean sunrise? Like that.) This song over and over, more alcohol until I was beyond beyond and then the iPod ran. What’s this song? It’s so good. Oh, it’s Babytalk, oh it’s so good. More Babytalk. Then I got a text message that said “Union Pool fucktard” so I put on my coat and went to Union Pool and met up with Justin. Do you remember in the end of Lost in Translation when he whispers in her ear and she understands and by extension so do we? We don’t know what he said, but it was just in the breathy, universal humanity of the movement? Justin gave me a hug and said to me something like that. I know what he said, but I’m not telling. Then I danced with girls, said some brash things, said some honest things, got in a tiny argument where someone put their middle finger in my face but I was too drunk to know if it was real or a joke, went to the bathroom when I didn’t have to and broke a bottle in the sink accidentally and went home and listened to “My Girls” some time before four. When I woke up I felt good. I didn’t see Justin that day.

That morning I read an art blog and without knowing it, the author wrote about my best friend’s boyfriend, called him a cross between metal and hockey, something like that. I saw that in the morning and I called my friend and she told her boyfriend and we talked and decided to go eat brunch. I took a shower and listened to “My Girls,” wore this shirt I like that I have been wearing too much, felt sprightly. On the walk to the train I ran into Eric, who is Babytalk. He’s really tall. We talked for a minute, I told him I listened to Babytalk the night before, he told me it was his birthday, which is awesome. Then I ran to the train and when I swiped my Metrocard it said “swipe again” then “swipe again” then “swipe again” and then I heard the train coming, but then it was the wrong direction so I took my time and I kept swiping without luck. Then my train came. I was still swiping, finally it worked. I booked it super fast down the stairs, somehow made it. It felt awesome. I sat down and this guy with a ski hat in the perpendicular seat looked at his hands, very emotional, very high school play. I wondered why. A lady in a ski hat next to him looked super cranky. Then I realized they were in a fight. When they started to talk I kept my headphones on but paused the music so I could listen. I listened for thirty seconds. It was really depressing. Then I thought why would I purposefully want to feel bad so I put the music back on and just watched them pantomime.