Get all 93 Digital Hotdogs releases available on Bandcamp and save 90%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Nimby, Gentrification Station IV, Prefigured, The Butts, Estudando a América do sul, Electric Motion, Enemy Not Me, Gas Powered Guillotine, and 85 more.
1. |
National Anthem
00:55
|
|||
|
play bawl
|
||||
2. |
My Daddy No Love Me
02:24
|
|||
|
Daddy raised me real right
Taught me bout boot straps
Flipping off handouts
And making guns clap
My last coins a drowning
In a styrofoam cup
My job slinging chicken
Pays worse than a holdup
Sawed-off in my lap
Skoal up on the dash
Frat boys try to score
Some South Padre hash
Little do they know
I took a shot of coke
Grab them by the seashells
Ask if they wanna croak
They call up ma and pa
And plea for a hundred grand
I drove them out to Corpus
Left them short-less in the sand
I don’t give a fuck
My daddy no love me
Showed me how to punch
When I’d steal his beer
Got locked up for swerving
Too many times a year
Stood up in the courtroom
A grin on his face
The judge read the verdict
Sir you’d better pray for grace
My pa gave me a wink
And said boy you better steal
Cause jail’s the only place
Where the system gives a meal
He don’t give a fuck
My daddy no love me
I don’t give a fuck
My daddy no love me
Nobody gives a fuck
My daddy no love me
|
||||
3. |
John Leguizamo
02:12
|
|||
|
Well I was at the 04 looking for a deep pour
That would heal me better than a tit
I was down in the dumps
Looking for a good hump
When this lady came around talking shit
So I holla’d “Hey girl hows about you and I
bob for teeth in a barrel of spit?”
But she turned my ass down
Like some two bit clown
As if beggars get to have their pick
Who’s that coming
Were they in my freshman math class
Can they understand the stupid shit I say
Who’s that coming
Does she know me from karate
Or is she gonna come and throw me back in jail
Well I dropped to my knees bout a quarter to 3
Just a waiting for to get my tip
But nobodies comin around
So I hate this fucking town
And everyone who lives inside it
Yeah well I wrote this song while I was taking a shit
And I don’t really care for it
I’m at the end of my prime
Falling short on a dime
And I couldn’t give a damn about it
Who’s that coming
Is it Johnny Leguizamo
Did he not receive my rent check in the mail
Who’s that coming
Is it someone who can help me
Or are they here to join me in the depths of hell
|
||||
4. |
Barred Out Bennie
00:51
|
|||
|
Who’s that two timing at the mall
Looking for love in a Macy’s stall
Forging a fight to fill his cup
Trying like hell to keep it up
It’s Barred Out Bennie
Hittin the highway at ninety five
Takin his Audi to the nearest dive
Maxin out on some heavy prog
Five miles back he hit your dog
It’s Barred Out Bennie
Who’s that screaming at Applebee’s
Saying he ain’t no charity
Giving the waitress a piece of his mind
When it comes to tippin he ain’t got time
It’s Barred Out Bennie
|
||||
5. |
Chicken Sand Mitch
02:06
|
|||
|
I put a grand down on chicken sand mitch
I had a feeling he would scratch my itch
I put a grand down on chicken sand mitch
I’ve got a feeling he’s a fuckin snitch
I put a grand down on chicken sand mitch
And now I gotta bury him in a ditch
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
Communism is a junction that you can’t avoid
You fly off the train tracks but that’s still the only thing in sight
Don’t blame me when you know that I’m right
Predetermination is a concept used by the pathetic
You can gain deeper insight by being subjected to repeat head injuries
Don’t blame me when you know that I’m right
True comprehension or realization is a farce
There’s only so much time you can waste trying to nurse out a wet fart
|
||||
7. |
Goatse.BMP
01:40
|
|||
|
Hell yeah I’m violent and tough
And when I walk watch me strut my stuff
I’ve got an air of confidence in life
When I’m really just walking on the edge of a knife
You wanna know me?
Yeah well I’m fuckin busy
You thinkin I’m dumb?
Well just take a look inside my bum
Hell yeah I’m a mother fucking freak
But you can’t tell when I’m walking down the street
Pressed suit and a shiny red tie
Dress shoes and smile - I’m living a lie
You wanna be it?
Well you - you don’t know shit
You want a career?
Well just take a look inside my rear
Hell yeah I’m a reggie on the net
I got fans in the millions you bet
At night when you’re waxing your car
I’m drinking champagne and I’m sitting on a jar
You wanna talk shit?
Well umm I’m never gonna quit
You wanna see class?
Well just take a look inside my ass
|
||||
8. |
3 Beers
02:18
|
|||
|
3 beers a night is all I need
3 beers a night is good for me
One chair one tray one old tv
One itch one shit one night complete
Gimme that 1-2-3
3 beers a night is all I need
3 beers a night will help me sleep
No wife no child no misery
No friends no life no place to be
Gimme that 1-2-3
|
||||
9. |
Acknowledge the Corn
02:16
|
|||
|
Can’t find my truck
I need to find my truck
Acknowledge the corn
Trapped in a maze in a field of maize
Acknowledge the corn
Where my fuckin truck
I need to find my truck
Acknowledge the corn
Trapped in a maze in a field of maize
Acknowledge the corn
A pint of corn liquor done made me insane
Acknowledge the corn
What in the fuck
Somebody stole my truck
Acknowledge the corn
Trapped in a maze in a field of maize
Acknowledge the corn
A pint of corn liquor done made me insane
Acknowledge the corn
Whole body wracked with mysterious pains
Acknowledge the corn
I’m a stupid fuck
I’m such a stupid fuck
Acknowledge the corn
Trapped in a maze in a field of maize
Acknowledge the corn
A pint of corn liquor done made me insane
Acknowledge the corn
Whole body wracked with mysterious pains
Acknowledge the corn
Metal shard stabbing straight into my brain
|
||||
10. |
||||
|
she had a big eye
she had a big mouth
she had a big house
|
||||
11. |
Hat Tip / Dip Spit
01:23
|
|||
|
Skip town for to make some cash
Tired of pulling of that dine and dash
Know a man in Rio with some killer hash
Blue collar man gotta have a stash
Wandered into town I was fuckin smashed
Sweat dripping down offa my moustache
Smoked the supply straight into ash
When I came to I was covered in trash
On the side the road and the police rolled by
Tried to make em out with the sun in my eye
Dusted off my pants and with a heavy sigh
And I - Eh - Uh
Uh Hat Tip / Dip Spit
Skip town for to beat the heat
Guess my journey just ain’t complete
Fresh dinger packed like a can of meat
Figured I’d find me som’in to eat
Found a feller by the name of Pete
Slingin hotdogs out on the street
Cayenne sauce sounded like a treat
Till shit shot out all around my feet
So I sat my ass in the public fountain
Stupid kid starts fuckin shouting
So I flick my blade and start a-counting
1 - 2
Hat Tip / Dip Spit
Skip town for to get some air
City life growin too much to bear
Don’t know what I’m doin when I get out there
Maybe I can make me a home somewhere
Outta town I catch a stare
Shimmering knife with a two-tone glare
Dumbass hippie with a face of hair
Think that he’s gonna get me to share
I’m guessing this man must be confused
Cause ya fucked with a man who got nothing to lose
So which of these paths you gonna choose
Life Death
Hat Tip Dip Spit
|
||||
12. |
||||
|
You roll up to our party, well we’re blastin’ “The” anthem
Haters freezin up cause we comin right at them
Rednecks rollin blunts, knockin’ back Jim Beam
Bitches servin up peach cobbler with ice cream
My pops on the lawn, poppin wheelies on his hog
Pumpin out Skynyrd in pure analog
The prophets of old told stories about me
My spirit’s in Boston, dumpin’ barrels of tea
I’m proud like the flag flying over the harbor
And I back the badge like a plate of armor
Always packin the gat, got the clickety clack
And if you’re looking for a permit gonna clap you back
And after that hit the fools who be sitting on Welfare
You should get off your ass and rack stacks like Rick Flair
I busted my ass for every cent I made
And I gave it straight back to the USA
The media’s lying to us every day
And the fluoride in the water turning all the frogs gay
The government sucks, aliens abduct
So stand up for America and give a f***
We’re marchin on wall street to take back the land
So grab a mic and put it in my hand
Dreigh Snye (Dreigh Snye) Five Nine (Five Nine)
Here to show you motherfuckers how to have a good time
|
||||
13. |
Clandestine Meth Lab
01:15
|
|||
|
Pete’s a local football star
Flirts with the girls in the high school yard
Teachers say that he’s a good kid
Has a ton of friends that he can’t get rid
Varsity jacket with the duck ass hair
Can chug a few beers when faced with a dare
May look sharp, but when he’s alone
Wonders why his house smells of Acetone
Pigskin Pete don’t know what ma and pa do every Friday night
When he’s at the game they cook another batch
Clandestine meth labs in his family’s home
Pete’s been trying like hell to get laid
His girl is prude and says she’s afraid
But on the night of the homecoming game
Pete told his girl he can’t be tamed
After throwing three hundred yards
He took her back home and threw her down hard
But when his hand wrapped around his head
The meth lab blew and left him dead
Pigskin Pete don’t know what ma and pa every Friday night
When he’s at the game they cook another batch
Clandestine meth labs in his family’s home
|
||||
14. |
Coors County
00:42
|
|||
15. |
||||
|
Pass the hats
Tens a gallon
Paid my dues to the mighty stallion
I’m saved
Another wad in the bucket of the cowboy church
Christ in chaps
We’re consuming
Biscuits gravy for communion
Oh lord
Baptised at the bottle at the cowboy church
Everybody’s packing heat
No need to be discrete
No need to feel strange
When’s heavens a home
Home on the range
Calvin’s piss on a pentagram
Jesus fish opposite dodge ram
Goddamn
Got designated drivers at the cowboy church
Chapels cheap if the art don’t matter
We serve beans on a silver platter
Who cares
No ones judged in the cowboy church
Saloon door confessional
It ain’t nothing special
A crown of tumble weeds bled christ dry
On your knees close your eyes
Receive the holy roast
Receive receive
You will believe
|
||||
16. |
Oscar's Oligarchy
01:46
|
|||
17. |
Teleos 37
01:06
|
|||
18. |
Stop Calling My House
01:29
|
|||
|
I’m a man who locks it down
Trackin everyone around
Cameras on the front and back
Keep out of my fuckin shack
Stop calling my house
They call me on the telephone
They call me when I’m not at home
They call me up and tell me lies
Like I’m a thief and I should die
Stop calling my house
I’m looking at my camera feed
I see a car out on the street
I check outside - it’s never there
At night I think they steal my hair
Stop my calling house
I’m screamin when I cut the phone
I’m screamin when I’m all alone
I’m screamin at my neighbor Ron
When I see him cross my lawn
Stop calling my house
|
||||
19. |
Hey Man Where You Been
02:17
|
|||
|
Maybe I was dreaming when I saw you - some twenty-something punk looking over the craft beer. You asked me how I was doing, and I told you about my headache, how the grass wasn’t helping, and how the club jams couldn’t help me forget about the bus stop down the street where loud talking junkies tell you you gotta be mean to run a business. You wished for better days. I didn’t see it as a jinx, not even when my pa caught me burning one in the beer cooler and kicked my ass to the curb. I never questioned your sincerity, even when I was standing at the bus stop, begging for change.
I never quit believing better days would come. Days ran by and the breath ran from me. It seemed like seven different boots always found my gut - one for everyday of the week. I tramped from east twelfth to fifty-first, and the fields of opportunity were all smothered in concrete and convenient stores. Weeks went by along with what little belongings I had. I sold my pipe for cash, but kept one nug to share with you. Years went by and the buildings grew taller and their shadows wider. None of the employers cared about my BA in History from the University of Mubai, and who would trust a clerk who was fired by his own dad? No one seemed to care I was around. I could never figure out no one tripped over my body lying across the sidewalk. But one day, somebody finally did trip over me and, no shit, it was you. You wore a suit over your tattooed arms. I could see your hipster slouch through the suit shoulder pads. “Hey man…” I called and you turned with a shotgun glare. But your gaze softened as you may have recognized my face in my tattered rags. “Where you been?”
|
||||
20. |
Nihilist
01:54
|
|||
|
I’m a devil without a prospect
I was born without reverence for all man
And as hard as I try to get by in this life
I know that I’ll never give a damn
And I know that ain’t the way it seems
When you see me at the slot machines
But down in my soul I’m hard as coal nihilist
I’m a coward without a conscience
I will hide from my troubles without shame
And when things in this world take a turn for the worst
Chaos is there to take the blame
And I know that ain’t the way things work
And I come out looking like a jerk
But behind that skirt I’m one heart hurt nihilist
And I know it’s probably a surprise
Nothing found no favor in my eyes
But down in my core there’s a rotten apple waiting
Law and order hating
Ol Nihilist
I’m a nihilist
|
||||
21. |
||||
|
A wrong way trip
To a bad day
I want you back
What more can I say
I was blessed
With malt and barley
Though my path
Lied still beyond me
A wrong way trip
To a bad day
I watched you fall
And drift away
I was gone
But now I’m sober
For I know our time has surely past
I repent
For all those times that I let go to waste
Won’t you lay your silver grace on me
|
||||
22. |
Half-Time
00:36
|
|||
23. |
Pass Me the Football
02:16
|
|||
|
Wake up on a warehouse floor
Lookin for that BK pour
Desert Highway take a right
Drive on speed all through the night
Swappin shorts at every stop
Blazin weed in front of cops
Pass the football round the van
Drive until we give a damn
|
||||
24. |
That's My Wife
01:51
|
|||
|
My wife is unbearably dull
My wife is unrivalbly cold
My wife is un-knowledgable
My wife is a double down hoe
Now she’s got the kids
And I got a couple stones
And I shout and I get pissed
Cause there ain't nobody home
Well she used to waste her days
Talking at the telephone
Hey that that that's my wife
My wife is outrageously old
My wife is a hideous troll
My wife is destroying my soul
My wife is a vacuumous hole
Now she got the funds
And she out there on the run
And I know she’s gettin lit
And she’s fuckin everyone
But if you talkin shit
On the mother of my son
Hey that that that's my wife
|
||||
25. |
My Gay Summer
01:44
|
|||
|
Last summer I spent 90 days in southern france
Backpacking cross Marseille just looking for romance
And if by chance I met some pretty girl
I’d take her for a twirl
And I’d finally have a reason to move out
I met a guy down there the name of Claude-Pierre
And boy I tell you man he sure had girly hair
And he would sit and stare straight in my eyes
Like he was hypnotized
But I blamed that on the fact he was from France
Well me and Claude-Pierre we sure got hella tight
We went to pick up chicks just about every night
But we would lose that sight when we’d get drunk
And climb into his bunk
And I don’t remember what happens next
And now I sit here at a loss for what to say
I’ve just now realized my ass was fuckin gay
Back in the month of May to sweet July
Lost in a Frenchmans eye
And I don’t want no one getting wind of this
|
||||
26. |
Javi's Truck
03:12
|
|||
|
Javi’s truck was a red 150
Used to drive it down to the discoteca
Spin the Nicky Jean records all night
With a fifth of Blanco and twelve Bud Lights
Drinking and toking in Javi’s truck
He showed us gringos how to party rancheros
Five AM we’d roll back to work
Sweating it out in the Waffle House kitchen
Eggs rancheros and a side of cocaine
Only thing to remove the pain
Javi’s truck
Jav’s truck
It’s the pride of the Waffle House
Javi’s truck
Javi’s truck
It’s the talk of the discoteca
Javi’s truck
Javi’s truck
Candy floss and a chrome plate lift
We’re destined for a federale cell
Cause the ICE sent Javi straight to hell
Them dumb white boys wanna make him pay
When they couldn’t even spell Ole
They didn’t even check Javi’s GPA
Had a full ride sponsored by the state
But Javi died in a frigid cell
So some dumb fucker,ed have a story to tell
And Javi’s red truck sat alone all day
And that’s why we gotta make whitey pay
Stolo cruising to a border town
Prepping for big shit to go down with
Javi’s truck
Javi’s truck
Got it packed with an IED
Javi’s truck
Javi’s truck
Burning flesh and twisted metal
Javi’s truck
Javi’s truck
Gonna send that truck a flyin
We’re gunnin for a federale cell
Cause we’re gonna send the ICE to Hell
(Personal Patrons)
|
||||
27. |
Inhalant Dangers
02:41
|
|||
28. |
My Son the Honor Student
02:34
|
|||
|
My son’s a straight shooter
He’s looking up bible verses on that damn computer
My son is never late to class
He ain’t out hanging with no hippies smoking grass
My son the honor student’s great
He always lets me know when he’s comin home late
I’ve got no need to supervise
My son’s the captain of the team
When he smiles his pearly whites gleam
My son’s been voted president of class
I’d bet my mortgage he could prolly kick your ass
My son the honor student’s great
He eats every vegetable you set upon his plate
I’ve got no need to supervise
My son the honor student’s great
And of course you know he’s absolutely straight
I’ve got no need to supervise
|
||||
29. |
Desi Hot
02:18
|
|||
30. |
||||
|
And I laid there in a daze my eyes up to the sky
Blood was pouring out my ears I thought that I might cry
Some pothead in a clown suit came and pulled me to the side
Asked me where I was and it was heaven I replied
They dragged my ass back to the chute until I gave their ass the boot
Nobody tells ol Pete the Meat he can’t ride no fuckin bull
I took off like a gunshot towards that 2 ton slab of steak
My boot was in the stirrup but I felt my ankle break
Everything was spinning like some fucked up carnie ride
Ambo came a rolling by like i’s bout to die
Clowns came kicking up the ground fighting through to tie me down
Nobody tells ol Pete the Meat he can’t ride no fuckin bull
I knew that bull was trembling when I sprinted cross the sand
Cause he was bout to meet the trusty switchblade in my hand
His hindleg cracked me like a whip and sent me cross the street so i could
Shit and puke and bleed and die and fall into a ditch now time to sleep
And I felt the bottle hit the right side of my head
Turns out stools were flying over some dumb shit i said
I grabbed the nearest painter and I tossed him in the air
His 30 friends came knocking with a dozen fuckin chairs
I sure ain’t backing down from no pussy lightweight clowns
Pete the Meat’s bout to leave your teeth all across the fuckin ground
Took a crack off whisky started stabbing everywhere
Now time to sleep
|
||||
31. |
Hell's Number Station
00:41
|
|||
32. |
||||
|
In America there’s a murder
It can be dark inside a mind
People can watch me in disbelief
Bitches we aint go time thinkin
Some good pot, baby I got time to wait
Never gave a shit anyway, it’s time to leave
Some rough roads, and they rough roads
Just gettin fucked up, so see a song
|
||||
33. |
Zit on My Belly
03:05
|
|||
|
Woke up this morning
Zit on my belly
Feeling real low
My socks all smelly
Last night I banged a
Brand new chick
Her old man had gone out
Treating his dick
Flowers grow
Flowers grow
Swing me up
Crash me to another
This juice ain’t like no other
This juice ain’t like no other
I saw the machete
Split through the door
Tearing through splinters
Her man cried war
He sliced my zit open
The pus was a flowing
My thoughts were a fading
Their quilt was a soaking
Flowers grow
Flowers grow
Swing me up
Crash me to another
This juice ain’t like no other
This juice ain’t like no other
I’m wondering just how much her old man had paid for that quilt. Maybe it’s a family heirloom. What have I done to his pride? Pus keeps bubbling out. He’s screaming, trying to peel off layers of pus that have hardened into a milky mask over his gal’s face.
|
||||
34. |
||||
|
And I want you back
In my open arms
And I hope you
Understand
That I changed my ways
And I need you now
And I want you
More than ever
Broadcasting live from the snowcapped peaks of Kilimanjaro - Xalen Bogeisi / Mike Joos
Two DJs on a mission to bring you the hottest tracks this side of the universe - dig it
On your drive to the dive at 5 we bang hit after hit - and we never quit (my boss won’t let me)
Quick Tip - There’s only one way to party - Thursdays are the new Fridays right here on BLISS 91.8
|
||||
35. |
Lost in the Sauce
02:49
|
|||
|
Here it goes
I tried it once before
And that was enough for me
Runnin empty
I’m on a mission
I’m on a mission
I feel a lot of energy
Surrounding me
Powerful stuff
I don’t have anything important today
I just wanna get away
Go away
Go away
|
||||
36. |
End Time
01:40
|
|||
|
God showed me last night
We’re running out of time
God showed me last night
Cities overrun with crime
God showed me last night
Flames in the northern sky
God showed me last night
When he came in my mind
There is no time like
End time
God showed me last night
We’re gonna save our young from dyin
God showed me last night
Cheesy broccoli rice
God showed me last night
It’s only $19,999
God showed me last night
This is truly end time
God showed me last night
This is now the end
There is no time like
End time
|
||||
37. |
||||
38. |
Speed Battle Haircut
00:40
|
|||
|
Our homelands overrun
Western tides brought Capitalist scum
They raid our nurseries
Put our children in factories
Dear Leader please accept this quest
Show these imperialist aggressors we’re best
Strap him to a chair
It’s time to trim his hair
It must conform to socialist lifestyle
Can you see him on Mt.Paektu
Dismembering yankees true
Vengeance is our comrades’ cry
We are all prepared to die
Supreme Leader’s Guidance System’s on
Now we’re headed toward a nuclear dawn
Strap us to a chair
It’s time to trim our hair
It must conform to socialist lifestyle
|
||||
39. |
||||
|
I've met people from far and wide
And they all wanna commit homicide
You're gonna wake up at the end of a knife
Look around you
There's a guy to your left and a chick to your right
And they're probably gonna end up fuckin tonight
You're goin home stoned all alone
But you can't pin that shit on me
Just cause i've been on TV
You gotta fess up for your life
Waking up at the end of a knife
Well sometimes I think that I have lived too long
When I think of all the people who've come and gone
And here I stand carryin on
Like my life is such a tragedy
Being you sucks as much as being me
No regard for human life
Waking up at the end of a knife
|
||||
40. |
The Death of Dallas
04:20
|
|||
|
Come on down to Dallas; we’ve got shit for the whole family
Down in Dallas, all the men and women are sweet strawberry jelly
Come with deep pockets and a Texas-sized appetite
We’ve got tacos, burgers and steaks to go with a cool Miller Lite
Believe it or not we’ve got more buildings than New York City
And our streets never really smell all that shitty
But seriously, make sure your pockets are real damn deep
Cause it’s either a penthouse or a sidewalk for where you’ll sleep
We churned Pegasus into glue
The Death of Dallas
Stab Henningan with a crusty corkscrew
The Death of Dallas
Now Dallas can be like any other big city; you’ll see some weird shit
But what I saw under Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge was perverse I must admit
A man in a sharkskin suit walking along the shoreline of the Trinity
Came to a halt when a peppered long-hair in all denim whipped around a tree
I couldn’t quite hear what was said, but I could tell
Sharkskin knew the old Florida tap water smelling hippie well
They exchanged many words, many anxious laughs
And something I cannot describe, something like a wart covered calf
We churned Pegasus into glue
The Death of Dallas
Stab Henningan with a crusty corkscrew
The Death of Dallas
Newsman started saying things about pipeline getting the green light
Weatherman started saying it was gonna rain all night every night
And it sure as shit has been for the last ten days
Main street’s looking more like a river and Dealey looking more like Chesapeake Bay
I stand on the steps of the ETP
As acid and gas rain down upon me
Yuppies stab each other with serrated steak knives
This rat race ends when only one is alive
We churned Pegasus into glue
The Death of Dallas
Stab Hennigan with a rusty corkscrew
|
||||
41. |
Final Score
01:01
|
|||
|
Final Score
Wausau Humpbacks 75
Buckhorn Hammerheads 6
Huntsville Birds 11
Hartford Banditos 24
Bucharest Cougars 69
Durango Devils 420
Duckwater Badgers 47
Aleppo Hellcats 5
Carson City Slickers 7
Dallas Buyers Club 1
|
||||
Digital Hotdogs Austin, Texas
DIGITAL HOTDOGS MUSIC LABEL #1 ALL TIME GREATEST EVER
FOR MORE INFO: digitalhotdogs [at] gmail [dot] com
If you like Inhalant Dangers, you may also like:
supported by 15 fans who also own “Inhalant Dangers”
Some good future funk mixed in with some old soulful classics. Enjoy!
go to album
supported by 14 fans who also own “Inhalant Dangers”
more retro funk than your trapper keeper can contain
go to album
supported by 14 fans who also own “Inhalant Dangers”
Smooth jazz for the modern vaporwave community. It's difficult to describe -- It sort of sits between the ears and the brain.
go to album
A “dream journey into the maze of emotional consciousness,” this EP offers three richly orchestrated pop numbers.
go to album
Ballad For Losers
by Dead Horses
Rollicking, rough-around-the-edges bedroom-country, full of hard-stomping beats and dry-as-dust guitars.
go to album
Inspired by Rio de Janeiro’s iconic Carnival Parades comes this epic synth symphony from Brazilian artist Fordmastiff.
go to album
