These days, it can feel like an achievement to just make it through the day; arriving at the weekend, a little victory. Vacillating between wanting a diversion and needing to feel present has become a familiar rhythm. Friendship frontman Dan Wriggins lays out this modern way of living in "St. Bonaventure," a languid country tune with slide guitars stretching off into the horizon a long way, like the distance from Monday to Friday. Checking out by learning animal facts from nature show episodes feels like a necessary distraction from the world, but then, just experiencing life in the moment has an urgency underneath, a rush to not let go too much: "Meant to write down / What I was feeling in the moment / Thinking, 'Man, you better get it just like it was / Or else you're gonna forget it,' " Wriggins tells himself. A local cathedral's demolition looms, an unforeseen event missed by phone-assisted musing. Friendship's sweeping alt-country shows us the way of staying afloat through daily life, steady in its discovery and uncertainty.