Playing tracks by
If I Had a Heart and Triangle Walks.
I’d normally add some sort of bio in this space, but I have no intention of improving upon how little I know about Karin Dreijer, lest some unforgiving truth shatter the fantasy I have where she steals me away to an illegal wine bar where we’d lose our money playing an obscure Russian card game, then hitch a ride to an old farm once used as a safe-house for rogue journalists fearing reprisal from authoritarian governments. We’d stay up all night eating figs and drinking absinth, pouring over Dostoyevsky and the Bauhaus back catalog while plotting the assassination of an executive at the World Bank. Two sunsets later, we’d be lying in each other's arms, the goggles from our gas masks gently tapping as we rub our noses together, falling asleep to the sound of a deer being devoured by a pack of wolves.