This record makes me want to be the frontman of a band. I want to stand center stage, staring blankly at the audience, a cigarette hanging loosely from the corner of my mouth, only my hips jerking ever so slightly to the beat while I croon disinterestedly and cooly at my adoring fans. Also, in this scenario, I have hair, a full lustrous head of hair. Fucking conditioner commercial hair. . .
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