Better Luck Next Life is the sound of aristocratic decay. It’s spiritual exhaustion, the crumbling of an empire into petty, isolated camps of self-degradation.
Super Wild Horses make me dance. All swinging shoulders and bouncy knees. Make me open the windows wide. Drink cheap booze and bomb hills on cardboard boxes. Make me think of my sweetheart. Make me sing along. Make me feel like I’m 15. Just drive-ins and scraped knees and fast guitars. Tappety drums and tambourines. […]