"I have a massive chubby right now," says Futurebirds guitarist Thomas Johnson.
The group is spending Friday afternoon with the media, posing for pictures atop picnic tables and answering questions about its latest record, Baba Yaga, a day after ripping the tits off This Tent.
"We love playing festivals."
But it's too gorgeous of a day on the farm to discuss recording sessions and label drama that, despite delays, ultimately resulted in an aural collection of stunning Southern harmonies served over reverb and overdrive.
"Our [campground] next-door neighbor has got some big ones," Johnson says. "She was walking around this morning, got the kinda floppy little thing going on and only wearing panties. Not bathing suit bottoms ... Panties."
By comparison, general camping's man boobs make up for tent city's lack of natural hippie tits. And the only panties we've come across were buried under a literal pile of shit in a Porta-John.
The artist village is clearly the place to be.
"I haven't found Tom Petty's tent yet, but I think it's close to ours," Thomas says. "I could smell him cooking hotdogs on the Coleman."
The conversation quickly reverts to breasts.
"Here's a good story," says guitarist Daniel Womack. "I had a friend in high school who could lactate. He would pinch his nipple, and milk would come out."
"You can milk anything with tits, Dan," Thomas interjects.
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"It was so sweet, high sugar content," Womack admits. "I loved it."
Welcome to Bonnaroo.