I have a fun game that I have been playing for twenty years. Four or five beers into the evening, halfway through a conversation about some tongue-twisting lyric that Sycamore is really proud of, I call “time out” and challenge him to write a love song. Sycamore gets that faraway look in his eyes and says, “They’re all love songs, Freepy. Every one of them.” So I ask him, “Even the one about the necrophiliac murderess?” “Certainly.” “And the one about the cave-dwelling secret society of gunpowder miners?” “Especially that one.” So here’s a whole lot of love: twenty-four songs (give or take) that you will never escape. Buy this, listen to it, and then try to go back to your old life. You won’t.
Freepy Shwirtel, 2011
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