Oh SHICK RAZOR BLADES this makes me want to take off all my clothes, run into Bed, Bath and Beyond and climb up those huge towers of soft ass bathtowels and just shimmy my sweaty balls all over fucking EVERYTHING.
Jesus balls on a baby blue buick with a bumper sticker that reads "will massturbate for bass", I want this to play all day as I walk slo-mo straight into the fucking weekend ahead.
Whoever the Fuck Wolffe is, I feel aroused like I haven't felt aroused all week.
This shit sounds like Amy Winehouse got ahold of a Lorde track and went to fucking TOWN it's so perfect.
Someone find this band and make them let me stalk them so we can just get it over with because I'm full mast over here and people are starting to stare.
A few of my friends on the softer side of life are Jason Isbell listening blokes. They're almost the typical Jason Isbell demographic: in their mid-30s to late-40s, white as Fuck, into country folk but they call it 'Americana', they may or may not be huge fans of either or both, My Morning Jacket or Wilco, they "listen to the words, man", they are notorious thigh slappers and finger snappers, and they buy their artist merch before the opener is done with their set.
These people aren't idiots, they're highly intelligent, they just happen to like their music to fall into one narrow column.
Thankfully for me, I can appreciate the music in this column, even though I can't fucki...
If you are a musician and you've been "on that grind" as the kids say, or "about that hustle" as no one says, for any significant amount of time, this kid is going to piss you off. Seventeen years old and this dude's bedroom pop is already girthier than your entire discography on CD Baby bro.
It's deliciously infuriating that someone so young has a grasp on creating music that's so fucking pleasantly distracting, distractingly comfortable, and comfortably pleasant.
The entirety of Groovy is equal parts lubed and inflated beach balls, but there are these noticeable injections of top 40 pop stabbed throughout that make Lo Noom impressive as shit as soon as the first song even...
Never heard of this band. Never want to stop listening to this fucking band. Never want bands to not sound like this fucking band.
Light Music sound exactly like Perry Farrell fronting Arcade Fire. But there isn't that slightly unstable vibe going on, or that feeling like the person you're watching perform is about to snap and fly into some tirade where you're altogether socially uncomfortable, sexually aroused and completely in the moment.
But there is that sense that the music is about to turn on you. Heading into something as a stationary, yet soaring majestic flying creature of some sort, battle drums soundtracking your fucking...
I fucking love this band.