Johnny Rotten would like to take this opportunity to remind you that he doesn’t give a fuck.
It’s a pretty darned well-made song, to be honest.
Having seen The Entrance Band twice, I can confirm that Lenchantin is a veritable monster of a bass player and a musician. Shame that she has now thrice signed up to subjugate her talent to the whims of bald, pasty megalomaniacs (Keenan, Corgan, Black).
Oh, well, musicians gotta eat!
As seen in the documentary, the “My lifestyle determines my deathstyle!” lyric was actually Hammett’s delightfully addled brainchild.
Also, it’s easily the worst song Trent Reznor has ever written.
Totally. I love how the song transitions from the whisper-to-yelp lo-fi histrionics of early YYYs material to the gospel-appropriating histrionics associated with high-production-value acts from the Rolling Stones to Madonna.
It’s like a 4-minute recap of the YYYs visibility arc.
Seriously. Diplo is the laziest motherfucker ever to stumble into success.
”Western Sahara” is a country. Well, it’s a disputed territory mostly controlled by Morocco. But Jaz did indeed “specify” his location. Not his fault if his knowledge of geography exceeds yours.
Why the fuck is there a hedge on stage?
Diamond Eyes (narrowly edging out Around The Fur).