Donald Trump, a vengeful Oompa Loompa with a hairpiece fashioned from a stale piece of Laffy Taffy he found under a park bench, is the only logical choice.
undeniably, my favorite Prince song is "When You Were Mine." track six on his "Hits" album. my mother didn’t have an extensive library of Prince music, but somehow I’d managed to pick this album – all stubbled profile and lace on its cover – and take it with me on summer cross-country bus trips with my grandmother’s church group. 75 older black ladies, a few other kids and me on a charter bus headed to New York City by way of Daytona Beach, Fla. I managed to get an empty pair of seats and spread out across them both with blankets and snacks and Prince in my Walkman.
Old-school hip-hop, modern noise rock and the utterly undefinable kept fans moving on the second day of Pitchfork.