American rock has a sort of self-pitying whine to it.
I'm sort of like a post-modern vegetarian; I eat meat ironically.
How many amoebas does it take to screw in a light bulb? One, no two! No four! ...no eight!
My wife bought me a vintage Gibson guitar that isn't just beautiful but has tremendous sentimental value. I have plenty of guitars for live gigs but this is one to treasure.
Do not crush the flowers of wisdom with the hobnail boots of cynicism.
Without the beat in the background, Jazz basically sounds like an armadillo was let loose on the keyboard.