Beneath guitars that chime in music box time, The Microphones drop four track poo poo bombs of feedback and discontent. But Don't Wake Me Up isn't that pretty. It's pretty close, though. Perfect to listen to when you find your lover gave you syphilis, or the beaches are awash with hypodermic needles, or your ass doesn't look good in a swimsuit anymore.
Microphones follows hormonal urges to the pus-caked mirror.
Barbed wire kisses, indeed. All rights reserved. Permission to link to this site is granted.