A platform to get your cultural two cents out there.
It’s difficult for me to talk about this album. It’s too vast. It never ends. It hijacks you into a sonic roller coaster and it spits you out at the end of the trip, while you still wonder what the f*ck has just happened. With Merriweather Post Pavillion you’re never in control.
A selection of songs for those days when a perfect breeze alternates shadows and lights on your face from the trees and you walk 3 feet over the floor and absolutely nothing can touch you.
Once there was a kid in a remote provincial town in a forgotten corner of Spain, which on its own, was a forgotten country at the time. And the kid came across with a book and read its first line “Many years later, in front of the firing squad, colonel Aureliano Buendía would remember that distant afternoon his father took him to see ice.”
314 W Eighth St. Oak Cliff.
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