I don’t believe I’ve mentioned Florence + The Machine on my blog and I now plan to correct this heinous oversight. I can’t stop listening to her music. Literally, I’ll sit in my car after it’s stopped, as the sun beats down on the roof and slowly heats me like the proverbial frog, just to listen to the last section of a song I’ve heard dozens of times before.
In fact, it’s like Elmo for adults. Seriously. Hear me out.
Elmo is a weird brain worm for kids. They all love him. They all love him a lot. Things are better because he is in them. If the drove cars, they would sit in them to finish hearing him sing Elmo’s Song, even if their cars were black and it was really too sunny to support that sort of activity.
Florence will have that affect on you. I challenge you to listen to this, a song off her album, Lungs, and not love it. You might try, but I happen to know that my readers are all mortals and thus are helpless in the grip of a siren’s song. Unless you’re tied to a mast, you’re going to like it.
Actually, you’re going to like it anyway, but you won’t be able to … buy the album. Or… This isn’t my best analogy.