let lemons be angry

Crush.

Why why did I not go to see sondre lerche at mosaic?

I can't help but draw similarities between him and James Mc Avoy in the Last King of Scotland:
It's the gangly boy frame, the quite careless abandonment of cool, the paleness and hollowed eyes.

You look at Sondre Lerche sing and his life story drops down like an overhead banner. He's a guy's guy who spends his time on his guitar in his friend's basement. And it's not for the record deal; he'd be happy playing at his cousin's birthday party too. He doesn't buy new clothes for gigs, they fall out rumpled from his laundry hamper and he won't be able to tell you what he wore at last night's concert. Maybe I'm wrong and he planned this and he practices his vigorous strumming expressions in front of the mirror. But how refreshing, in a time of men who have learnt to pluck their brows and use concealer.