Phil Collins’ post-divorce sex party album is darker than I could have ever imagined.
You get me closer to blog.
Phil Collins pretends to be a cockney fishmonger and listens to people having sex through hotel walls. This is not a joke.
This is as close as I’ve ever gotten to gushing about an album on this blog.
That big drum roll part isn’t as good as you all think that it is.
Whoever wrote this is a real Trent-setter.
The first Pearl Jam album exclusively about a viral video featuring LARPers.
I need for this project to be over.
You can’t mash this record up with some lime and garlic, and I wouldn’t recommend dipping tortilla chips into it. Sorry.
Hardwired… to argue with friends about Metallica.