I'm getting my gacha life phase flashbacks :sob:

The big music list - Part 1

Good God!

Nothing's New

Mama's Boy

You're Falling Apart

This Is How Tomorrow Moves

Real Man

Yellow Claw presents In My Room with DJ Mustard Ft. Ty Dolla $ign & Tyga 

GET YOUR FIX: MadDecent.lnk.to/BFM

Blood For Mercy

In My Room (feat. Ty Dolla $ign & Tyga)

Never for Ever

Army Dreamers

How To Be A Human Being

Take A Slice

Puberty 2

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Bury Me At Makeout Creek

Francis Forever

Android52 - Romance

Be the Cowboy

Washing Machine Heart

Me and My Husband

Nobody

Premier: http://www.thrdcoast.com/read/2018/7/16/video-premiere-vansire-that-i-miss-you

Music Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=40&v=CG-Qco4zs_s

Download: https://vansire.bandcamp.com/track/that-i-miss-you

Josh Augustin - Vocals/lyrics, synths, drums
Sam Winemiller - Bass, Guitar

Cover photo by Josh, design by the band

Catch us live http://bikergangbooking.com/tourdates/vansire

That I Miss You

エイリアン☆ポップ II

.｡:+*buy.｡:+*

Cosmo Funk

Prom Queen

Sometimes, Mitski feels life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” she says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have after I die, so I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will shine love long after she’s gone. That’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land.

“This is my most American album,” she says. The music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. Sonically Mitski’s most epic and wise album, the songs introduce wounds and then actively heal them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like light from a distant star.

It's full of the ache of the grown-up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything and everyone is crying out in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning and then rejecting us. To love this place, this earth, this America, this body takes work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Washing Machine Heart

Mitski

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