Tindersticks...
I killed myself to this band.
They made up the soundtrack to my London, the broken hearts, the deaths and the late night emergency calls.
On vile winter evenings, it was them playing in my headphones as I rushed around pharmacies picking up clean needles. When I suffered a mild overdose it was my mother's tears dripping over the Tindersticks that I came around to.
But this post cannot be about words... at least not mine. So all I will further say is that I discovered the Tindersticks during a storm, that Stuart Staples is an absolute poet, and along with The Smiths, they have played out my days for the past 15 years.
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OK, without any more fuss, Mesdames et Messieurs, je vous donne Les Tindersticks.....
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(May take 30 seconds or so to start.)
Stuart Staples and David Boulter
Stuart Staples
Tindersticks... It was worth all the dying just to have heard them.
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