I think the devil knows his way around this place He leaves a trail of red temptation And he hides us in his fog so thick with shame
not again
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia

seen from Canada

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Israel
I think the devil knows his way around this place He leaves a trail of red temptation And he hides us in his fog so thick with shame
not again
Just did our first interview with effervescent songwriter/actress/writer and member of The Spring Standards, Heather Robb!!! This Fleetwood Mac episode is shaping up to be amazing. Get excited for next week! And check out Heather at The Hotel Cafe in LA August 25th!
Do yourself a #favor and go rent or buy this live @springstandards video performance, buy the album or stream it on #Spotify. If only to hear/watch Heather leave it all on the floor for Unravel Unwind. Some of the best musicians you will find, not just as writers, but performers, musicians and people.
totally my jam today. so catchy! so adorable!
So this song has been stuck in my head
And I can't decide if it's the mix, the song itself, the lyrics, or just the beautifully perfect performance.
Listen to it here. "Crushing Pennies" by Spring Standards. The Wild Honey Pie Version.
There's something about the sound of the giant, reverberant room, and the gently, springy, articulated guitar, and the meticulously tight harmonic mixing of the three vocals- there's something there. It's music perfection. It's a rainy autumn dusk and they are a warm mug of steamy chamomile tea.
I just organized my desk today, which means assembling the growing collection of pin-able trinkets to the rear cork board of the hutch. I've lost a few concert tickets over the years, but plenty of badges, passes, postcards, ornaments, keychains, reminders, and buttons sprinkle the palate like a splatter of paint on a canvas, dotting my dormitory with subtle reminders of who I am, where I've been, what I've gained, and what I've lost.
And who.
I wonder who I'll gain this year.