Ariel “Pink” Rosenberg

Self-described tramp Ariel "Pink" Rosenberg transforms impounded auto lemons into neutered pop lemonade, sharing a stern, scratchy voicemail from his unwilling-to-cough-up-much-needed-ducats dad before sliding into a rambling, anti-fi netherworld of nut-squeezing, multitrack falsetto pukes and warped, rickety disco axe licks. As usual, the fruit of his labor is a glorious...
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Self-described tramp Ariel “Pink” Rosenberg transforms impounded auto lemons into neutered pop lemonade, sharing a stern, scratchy voicemail from his unwilling-to-cough-up-much-needed-ducats dad before sliding into a rambling, anti-fi netherworld of nut-squeezing, multitrack falsetto pukes and warped, rickety disco axe licks. As usual, the fruit of his labor is a glorious mess, and whether the lyrics are X-rated fantasies or mea culpas is difficult to discern, but just try not to hit repeat. I dare you.

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