One-word, five-letter album titles, red and gray comic book art from some hellish dystopia, metal guitars and epilepsy-aggravating computerized drums – suddenly I’m 15 again, sneering at all the sheep who consider Marilyn Manson the ultimate in parental annoyance.
Disaffection connoisseurs by the thousands lost an icon in 1999 when KMFDM “Kein Mehrheit f
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“dusty rusty crusty musty ass california hills”
“frowning in plaid (haunted radios, bird bones + anthropomorphized wind)”
“warming my hands on bridges i’ve burnt”
“songs that make me see god”
“My Playlist #236”
“classy wine moment and intellectual conversation”
“90s heroin chic model off duty”
“tweet tweet bird emoji map emoji”
“not my circus, not my monkeys”
“a grave is probably cheaper than an apartment”
“ATE THESE BITCHES LEFT NO CRUMBS / DID IT IN DESIGNER PUMPS”
