Franz Ferdinand and MGMT: Always Ascending (Read: NOT Uprising)
Nothing matters now, nothing matters now, nothing matters now.
It’s time you embraced the winter, Sydney.
Take your white finger, slide the nail under the top and bottom buttons on your wallet and place your fate in the glittering Glaswegian hands of Franz Ferdinand (and MGMT).
Surrender yourself to the little dark age.
When you die, if nothing else, you’ll remember this ‘undeniably brilliant’ and ‘unironically gorgeous’ moment.
Besides. What’s wrong with a little destruction?
They’re just a shot away from you.