You know how it goes, you’re sat there listening to some young Shoreditch thing strum her out of tune guitar whilst shoving a vacuum cleaner down then microphone, ahem. When, just as you have turned your speakers up to maximum capacity Roberta pipes up and ruins it, ruins it all.
Yes Spotify, oh how great it was, and yes I’m cheap I could subscribe but I want to save my pennies, and just track her down and lodge the microphone so far down her throat that she can only mumble rhythmic static.
For those of you who are wandering what the hell I’m writing about, and whether I am slightly psychotic, fear not there’s a great new thing in Internet world, called Spotify. Hardly a justification for dismembering someone’s vocal chords, but wait…






