i guess i don't have anything to say
the blood brothers
circle takes the square
cutting pink with knives
daughters
elle milano
fear before the march of flames
fall of troy
gay against you
johnny foreigner
metronomy
thenumbertwelvelookslikeyou
patrick wolf
rolo tomassi
sigh and explode
Wherever I sat, on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok, I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
-The Bell Jar