Phil Collins pretends to be a cockney fishmonger and listens to people having sex through hotel walls. This is not a joke.
A real dog’s breakfast of tunes to enjoy in the dog days of summer.
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.
Now with more magical Toronto experiences!
I want to blog you like an animal.
Now with more Jarvis Cocker than I ever imagined would grace this site.