If you haven’t picked up Tame Impala’s new album, “Lonerism”, please do so. In the meantime, watch this with your eyeballs. Thank you.
A collection of artifacts & memorabilia curated by Nick Ferrell
I’ve never done crack or heroin, but I’m pretty sure the pathetically desperate longing a junkie suffers for his next fix is a close second in intensity to the nerve wracking anxiety I suffered over Snake Mountain in the weeks leading up to my sixth birthday. I mean, c’mon, the fucking thing looked like a demonically possessed Mt Rushmore AND it actually transformed your voice into creepy echoey shit!
I wouldn’t know such pure ecstasy again until my teens when I discovered blow jobs and beer.