MGMT

Ludzie, ludzie, MGMT rządzą i wymiatają! Jak ktoś się jeszcze bije z tą myślą, może to zdjęcie go/ją przekona:

albo to:

albo, alternatywnie, fragment tekstu
Time To Pretend:
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin, and fuck with the stars.
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars.

This is our decision, to live fast and die young.
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun.
Yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else can we do.
Get jobs in offices, and wake up for the morning commute.

A jak ktoś jest poważnie ambitny (hej, ambicja to nie grzech), to tu jest fragment recenzji z NME
Get a band. Get a couple of million sales. Get laid like a horny orangutang in heat. Get a supermodel wife. Get more drugs than you’d find in Doherty’s urine test. Get a ludicrously named child. Get a financially crippling divorce. Get another, even younger supermodel wife. Get arrested onstage for an act of gross public indecency with an underage badger. Get a bucket of painkillers and whiskey down your neck and get your head down for your never-ending dirt-nap by the age of 27. Get yourself a legend.

To live fast and die young or not: that’s been the question at the heart of rock’n’roll since Ladyguzzlin’ Mad Dog McSmackchild OD’d on barbiturates in 1954, and it’s the topic mused over by MGMT’s debut single ‘Time To Pretend’ – the most inspired chunk of post-modern rock irony this side of Amy Winehouse calling her next album ‘The Twelve Steps’.
MYSPACE MGMT ZAWIERAJĄCY 2 GRAFIKI Z KONIKAMI NA RÓŻOWYM TLE