How in the world were they making that sound? Velvet Underground
Everything is slightly confused and blurred like a Trafalgar Square night bus home.
Summer is on the horizon, and Burnt Palms are just about the most perfect band to spend it with.
The garrulous flippancy ominously forebodes. I do forbid that their overly zealous residency finds a little frivolity in the sense that these lesbians aren’t shy of being gay or Canadian. And it shows.
If you ain’t got the idea by now don’t come whining to me in 15 years time baby about how you missed out.
Last year was sensational for music. This year was even more sensational.
It’s a shame about the Babies. Come on feel the Babie-heads.
Sun, fun, shorts, shades, the beach, the party never stops and the caring never starts.
The music, I like – but you have to appreciate that these people are not my people.
They knew the fuck the importance of editing.