Sunday morning get out of bed music sort of while dreaming of Calvin Harris’s death

Slice of indie from 1987…the “Indie” they don’t make anymore….Felt’s “Primitive Painters” with the Cocteaus Elizabeth Frazer…jingle jangle

I saw Calvin Harris on the tv the other night. Did ol Stretch miss something? I’m currently trying to invent a new curse word to describe this entity. Any horrible suggestions would be most welcome. Even the strongest, filthiest exclamation of anger doesn’t seem to suit. He’s like a piece of shit, sitting on top of a edifice of self-belief, with paid friends and an arrogance that will soon be bet out of him by the rigours of real existence…He is a _______________

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3 thoughts on “Sunday morning get out of bed music sort of while dreaming of Calvin Harris’s death

  1. I just don’t like the guy. It’s as simple as that. He just proves I’m old and probably out of touch. It seems it’s now okay for mediocrity to rise to the top all most like a creampie…fuck it, he has to die

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