Turns out it has been nearly two years since I last told you how good Mt. Wolf are. Seems like a good time for a recap on why you should be listening to something that sounds like Nick Cave, a marching band and someone playing The Killers at 33rpm when it should be 45rpm. Obvious, really.
This tender offering raises questions we all ask ourselves time and time again, no matter what stage in our lives we’re at. It’s so emotionally-charged that if you were somehow able to harness it you’d be able to keep Carlisle illuminated for the best part of a fortnight. Every little touch – particularly the acoustic guitar and the tiny guitar riffs that squirrel away – adds an extra element of pleasure while you’re undoubtedly being hypnotised by such a luscious voice into robbing the nearest jewellery store and firing all the goods right off to Wolf HQ where they’re anxiously awaiting your criminal donations. I’d report them for this but to be perfect honest they’re definitely not getting paid as much to write and perform this gem as they should be so I’ll let them off. Just this time though, yeah? You naughty wolves need to pay your taxes…
More of a rollercoaster than even Ronan Keating could ever master, grab yourself a family bag of Maltesars, curl up in a onesie and weep because you know that Ryan Gosling/Emma Stone (Delete as appropriate. Or don’t delete as appropriate) will never be yours. Damn, that’s cold.