Milos is a future GOAT simply because he's a Disciple. Stan for him, sistrens!
And the basic ones here are those who can't recognize the beauty of SBM. Speaking of quality, it's #1. Tho it's just Top 5 on my personal fave rank.
And that deleted scene from "Tim McGod" is cute.
Also this:
Quote:
What the Folk? When the Traditional Becomes the Counter-Culture
[...]
For all the weirdness of this cultural phenomenon—folk as a marginal counter-culture making its way into the mainstream—marks a confusing improvement. Mumford write their own music, play their own songs, and originated from a somewhat edgy East London folk scene that similarly birthed Noah and the Whale and Laura Marling. Pop music, Top 40 music, Billboard number one music, was at least turning toward being more organic, less packaged, in some sense, more “real”. Taylor Swift, a similarly “authentic” artist, had begun the same project in the opposite direction, a mainstream country and pop artist who began to impact the margins, the princess of radio now lauded on the virtual pages of Pitchfork. It was the cultural Lord of the Flies: a country singer who wasn’t that country and a group of Londoners playing American-style banjo songs both seizing a part of the same pop conch shell as millions sang along.
[...]
Return to the rooftop; this isn’t an indictment of Karl or anyone else there, the two million people who bought Mumford’s last record, or the tens of millions who stream neo-folk bands on Pandora, Spotify, or on Top 40 radio. In one sense, this is grand shared experience between upper-middle-class elites and the rest of the country. Mumford & Sons and the Lumineers are lot closer to country music than they are to rock. Perhaps, coupled with Taylor Swift’s odd crossover to critical acclaim in rock publications, the coastal elites and the rest of America’s music listeners are finally uniting behind a common banner: “Ho Hey”. They represent catchy, romantic melodies contained in a folksy package. It’s certainly meaningless. If it possessed any hint of danger—even a latent message, anything remotely inflammatory—it simply wouldn’t be popular; it would have remained counterculture and the Lumineers would be Laura Marling. But the meaninglessness might well contain its power: A generation confined to a rooftop at dusk singing about nothing at the top of their collective voice.
Pop Matters
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