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Did I mention this already?
Chances are:
I did, as I've only got so much in this brain of mine to share. Ah, here the nave writer ventures into the oft poeticized notion that there is some struggle between the intellectual life of the mind and the physical life of the body and soul. Anyway: Back in Vegas, after a long day of note-taking, hand-shaking, picture-snapping, nodding, smiling, and listening, I followed Jon Iverson to his hotel room where we picked up a couple of guitars and traded riffs.
As with most things, when it comes to playing guitar, I…
Via Jeff Wong.
Yesterday, on the sunny side of Orchard Street, not a single person walked alone. Every one was a part of two. Did you see? I watched as the couples strolled, arms and fingers tangled like ivy around a chain link fence. Like Isobel Cambpell's soft breath fluttering around Mark Lanegan's gentle grumble.
Top of the 4th, tied at one.
Do you wanna come walk with me?
Do you wanna come walk with me?
I'm not saying I love you, I won't say I'll be true…