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Cute but not enough cowbell. 
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Whenever I feel weird I listen to a little mr prine gets me sitting on a rainbow
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Welcome to my dream.
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Translation
It’s too cold.
My brain is permafrost.
I make heavy cloak of Yak hair.
Deep voices call
Miiiiiaaaammeeeeee
I can not leave beloved Yak.
I will endure cold and be sad.
I can not Miami me.
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We used to walk down to Piedmont Park on sunny Atlanta weekends to see the bands play for free. The Hampton Grease Band was the band we loved to interact with booing, cheering, laughing. He’d give the audience the bird, show off the “H” on the back of his head he carved out of his shaggy hair, bang on the amps creating thunder and crackling lightning while the band played on. Definitely from the Capt. Beefheart side of life back then.
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Pardon Mariannes French…
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R.I.P. Col. Bruce Hampton. He was a guru to many of my favorite musicians. I’m bummed I never got to see him… And what a way to go - he died on stage performing at his 70th(?) birthday celebration.
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Upcoming young talent from Belgium, instrumental piano, no whiny singing, just raw emotion.
(Agrees in Russian Orthodox Chants)
also this:
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don’t make me have to set an example today 
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A little gangsta shit…
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This piece will go down the ages with praises and glory.
4 Likes
1 Like
Italian psychedelic stoner-doom
