about Venture is an art, skateboarding, and music magazine all rolled into one. It features new artists, new skateboarders, and music youâ€™ve probably never heard of.
4: Top 5 skateparks in the world 6: Vinyl comeback 8: Mark johnson interview 12: Artist profiles 18: Japandroids interview 20: Top 10 albums 3
Black pearl skatepark
Located in the Cayman Islands, Black Pearl is the worldâ€™s largest outdoor concrete skate park. This massive park covers over 52,000 square feet 4
This indoor/outdoor skate park was created by Vans Shoe Company. Skaters can have a lot of fun on the concrete bowls and pools outside covering over 20,000 square feet of skateable area.
An urban skatepark covered in graffiti art work, Marseilles skate park is both beautiful and expansive. As Franceâ€™s largest outdoor skate park, skaters from all over europe stop by to grind on the various painted bowls and verts. Itâ€™s unique style sets Marseilles apart from other parks around the world and offers a new experience unlike the usual terrain of outdoor parks.
There were always record collectors who disdained the compact disc, arguing that an LP’s grooves yielded warmth and
depth that the CD’s digital code could not match. But the market largely ignored them. Record labels shuttered their LP pressing plants, except for a few that pressed mostly dance music, since vinyl remained the medium of choice for D. J.s. As it turned out, that early resistance was not futileww, thanks largely to an audience of record collectors, many born after CDs were introduced in the 1980s. These days, every major label and many smaller ones are releasing vinyl, and most major new releases have a vinyl version, leading to a spate of new pressing plants. When the French electronica duo Daft Punk released “Random Access Memories” in mid-May, 6 percent of its first-week sales — 19,000 out of 339,000 — were on vinyl, according to Nielsen SoundScan, which measures music sales. Other groups with a predominantly college-age audience have had similar success: the same week, the National sold 7,000 vinyl copies of its latest album, “Trouble Will Find Me,” and 10,000 Vampire Weekend fans opted for the LP version of “Modern Vampires of the City.” When the Front Bottoms, a New Jersey indie band, posted a photo of their players carrying stacks of LP mailing boxes on their Facebook page recently, their label, Bar/None, racked up what Glenn Morrow, who owns the label, described as “phone orders for $2,000 worth of LPs in 10 minutes.” A growing number of classic albums — including the complete Beatles and early Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan catalogs — have had vinyl reissues in recent years as well. Michael Fremer, who monitors the LP world on his Web site, Analogplanet.com, said: “None of these companies are pressing records to feel good. They’re doing it because they think they can sell.” About a dozen pressing plants have sprouted up in the United States, along with the few that survived from the first vinyl era, and they say business is so brisk that they are working to capacity. Thomas Bernich, who started Brooklyn Phono in 2000, says his company makes about 440,000 LPs a year, but a giant like Rainbo Records, in Canoga Park, Calif., turns out 6
million to 7.2 million, said Steve Sheldon, its general manager. One plant, Quality Record Pressings, in Salina, Kan., opened in 2011 after its owner, Chad Kassem, grew impatient with delays at a larger plant where his own line of blues reissues was being pressed. His company, which runs four presses — acquired used, but modified to run more efficiently — now makes LPs for all the majors, and lists Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton and Nirvana reissues among its recent projects. He is currently pressing 900,000 vinyl discs a year. “We’ve always had more work than we could do,” Mr. Kassem said. “When we had one press, we had enough orders for two. When we had two, we had enough orders for four. We never spent a dollar on advertising, but we’ve been busy from the day we opened.” There is a limit to how much the vinyl business can expand right now. When it seemed inevitable that CDs would supplant LPs, the companies that made vinyl presses shifted to making other kinds of machinery. The last new press was built in 1982, so relatively recent start-ups like Quality and Brooklyn Phono searched out used presses (the going rate is about $25,000) and reconditioned them. Most plants have deals with local machine shops to make replacement parts. Some pressing plants have looked into commissioning or building new presses but have found the cost prohibitive — as much as $500,000, said Eric Astor of Furnace MFG in Fairfax, Va. “Since my partner also owns a CD/DVD plant,” Mr. Astor said in an e-mail, “we’ve been testing using the methods used in disc manufacturing to make a new breed of vinyl record, but that R&D is slow going and not looking promising.” How are LPs selling? That is a matter of dispute. David Bakula, Nielsen SoundScan’s senior vice president of client development and insights, said that his company tracked 4.6 million domestic LP sales last year, an 18 percent increase over 2011, but still only 1.4 percent of the total market, made up mostly of digital downloads (which are increasing) and CDs (for which sales are declining). This year, Mr. Bakula said, vinyl sales are on track to reach about 5.5 million. But manufacturers, specialist retailers and critics argue that SoundScan’s figures represent only a fraction of actual sales, perhaps as little, Mr. Kassem and Mr. Astor said, as 10 to 15 percent. They say that about 25 million vinyl discs were pressed in the United States last year, and many more in Europe and Asia, including some destined for the American market. Mr. Bakula countered that manufacturers are speaking of the number of discs made; SoundScan tracks how many were sold. But the manufacturers argue that
Thomas Bernich LPs, unlike CDs, are a one-way sale: labels do not accept returns of unsold copies. Therefore labels and retailers are careful to order only what they think they can sell. Moreover, LP jackets do not consistently carry bar codes — Mr. Kassem, for one, leaves them off his discs because, he said, “they’re ugly” — and therefore cannot be scanned at the cash register. And many shops that sell LPs are independents that do not report to SoundScan, although Mr. Bakula said his company weights its figures to account for that. There are other measures of the health of the field, including figures from ancillary businesses. Heinz Lichtenegger, whose Vienna-based Audio Tuning company produces the highly regarded Pro-Ject turntable, said in an e-mail that his company sells 8,000 turntables a month. And Mr. Fremer has sold 16,000 copies of a DVD, “21st Century Vinyl,” that shows users how to set up several turntable models. Vinyl retailers are thriving as well. Mr. Kassem of Quality Record Pressings also runs Acoustic Sounds, which sells LPs as well as turntables and accessories, including cleaning machines and protective sleeves. Music Direct, a Chicago company that owns Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab, a storied audiophile label, has a similarly broad stock, including a selection of turntables that ranges from the $249 Music Hall USB-1 to the $25,000 Avid Acutus. Josh Bizar, the company’s director of sales and marketing, said that Music Direct sold 500,000 LPs and “thousands of turntables” last year. And the buyers, Mr. Bizar said, are by no means boomer nostalgists. “When you look at the sales for a group like Daft Punk,” he said, “you’re seeing young kids collecting records like we did when we were young.” “We never expected the vinyl resurgence to become as crazy as it is,” he said. “But it’s come full circle. We get kids calling us up and telling us why they listen to vinyl, and when we ask them why they don’t listen to CDs, they say, ‘CDs? My dad listens to CDs — why would I do that?’ ”
AN INTERVIEW WITH MARc
Marc has been a player in this game for over a decade, always bringing his unmistakable style to the table in ways that have refreshed and inspired many a wood pusher. His uniqueness as an individual is understated, which for me has added to the intrigue of his skating’s many dimensions - power, finesse, technical skill, and a few secret ingredients that no one has yet borrowed convincingly. Doing these interviews can be somewhat awkward in cases where I’ve never met the subject. In this case I was pretty nervous that I might blow it, but MJ handled my questions with his usual grace and offered some rare insights for your reading pleasure.
Q: Your early video parts evoked a unique sense of flow and lightness on the board. The khaki/white tee combo also lent itself to this aesthetic. You were also a teenager at this time - what were some of your early goals for expressing yourself through a video part? Marc: I think that during that time, I just wanted to put out the best footage I could. I was trying to get to the level of skating of the people that I was influenced by, but at the same time I didn’t necessarily want to express myself as this person who just wanted to copy every trick in Gino’s or Daewon’s last part. I knew that people were always working on new stuff for upcoming videos, so that’s what I was thinking about a lot of the time. I love the shock value that new videos always had around that time, and keeping a certain level of that has always been a contributing factor in some of the stuff I’ve tried for videos. I think that most skaters would like to be well-rounded and not paint themselves into one corner or another, so I think I expressed myself based on what influenced me, and a lot of that was outside of skateboarding. The whole ‘Dickie’s with the white tee’ thing came from the fact that both are pretty cheap, and to me they have a timeless quality.
Q: Another standout feature of your skate persona has been your sense of humor. On the other hand, there continues to be a mysterious element there that is equally intriguing. The skater at home is left to ponder what it might be like to be your friend. Could you speak on friendship and what it means to you? Marc: Friendship can be strange. Proximity doesn’t define it. Mutual history doesn’t define it. And convenience should never even be a factor in friendship. I think that anyone with a good head on their shoulders knows the difference between a friend versus someone who only calls when they want something. Q: Your push and your posture on the board are very unique. I’ve also observed that you wear very comfortable-looking apparel when you skate. What factors, mental or physical, make you feel most comfortable on the board? Marc: I wish I could pin that one down, so I would have something to stick with. I think I find comfort in familiar things like a board that’s a good three days old, or some shoes that are just worn in nicely. Maybe anything, once I get used to it and figure out that it works for me. As far as what I wear, I figure that simple and solid is easier if you’re going to be mopping up a dirty street with your body all day. I don’t really see the point in getting overly fancy in regards to all that, but that’s just what feels right for me. Q: Though your most recent Lakai part clearly featured footage from trips abroad, many of my favorite MJ clips are from little school yards in San Jose or random manual pads. How does environment play into your motivation to do a trick? What is your process for choosing spots to film? Marc: For a long time, filming was something that was almost always an option while just out skating with friends on any given day. If a trick was working out on a particular day, I would ask one of my friends, usually Chris Avery or Matt Eversole to film. I remember in the early days that we didn’t really go to spots just to get one certain thing. The situation was more a question of where we were all going to meet up. If something worked out at the spot, awesome. If not, then maybe I’d try it again the next time we ended up there. For me, the session was the environment. Wherever all the guys were going to meet was the environment. Just skating with the same guys all the time and learning new stuff or finding new spots was pretty motivating. I never tried to pull off an aesthetic for spots I skated, and in more recent years I think I still tend not to exactly choose a certain place for a certain thing. I try to figure out the spot and see what comes out of that. Q: When you first started to gain coverage in the mags, you had moved from North Carolina. What associations do you have with the east coast, particularly where you lived in NC? Did you have many close friends who skated at the time? Marc: Everthing stayed pretty local for the time I lived there. Driving to another city to skate for a day was a big deal for us back then. I just remember being out all day and all night just pushing around and skating a few different spots each day. Mostly curbs and manuals and flatground; the same stuff we’d see in videos. Back then, skating was definitely an outcast kind of subculture, and not many people skated at all anywhere you went. But we had a little posse that met up pretty much every day and made the rounds. It was good, even if we didn’t end up skating, we would usually all be at someone’s house watching videos or we’d be out getting into something crazy. Q: Being a skater is a relative term nowadays. The identity has changed significantly and continues to evolve. Your ties to the skate community partially define your experience as a skater. How would you describe your current place in life as a skateboarder? Marc: I’m happy doing what I do. And I’m thankful. It’s easy to forget about being thankful about everything, about your opportunities. I try to keep myself in check and do what I know I should be doing. That’s the best way to describe it. Q: Your career differs from the mainstream conception of a “job,” and in many important senses deviates from the popular understanding of what a professional skateboarder’s job is. I think most non-skaters today associate it with contests and TV shows. When you meet new individuals, especially non-skaters, do you find it difficult to relate your lifestyle to their’s? Marc: Sometimes trying to explain my lifestyle can be difficult. If someone asks me what I do, what I tell them depends on whether or not I feel like answering the questions that usually follow “I’m a pro skateboarder.” With younger people, it’s easy because they do have that TV frame of reference and it makes better sense to them, in lots of ways, than it does to a much older person that might have no idea what skateboarding is. To someone that I assume wouldn’t understand, I usually say something like, “I do some design work for a few companies in the LA area.” Which occasionally is and has been true. 9
Q: The more recent move to Chocolate and Lakai almost seemed to symbolize for you a break from the familiar towards a new realm of possibilities. Reflecting on the move, what were some of your hopes, and what goals have you achieved since? Marc: I wouldn’t say that I applied any hopes to those decisions. Well, of course I hoped I could bring something to the table for both companies. That always feels good if you can, right? Those companies were already established and of course really solid, and double-checking almost every single decision someone made for Enjoi if I wasn’t standing directly over their shoulder got really old, really fast. I just knew that Rick and Mike and Kelly all understood what things were like from both sides - being a rider and being involved from a business standpoint as well. As far as goals, I don’t know. I didn’t really set any goals. That sounds weird. Are we supposed to set goals in skateboarding?
Q: As a final question, what avenues are you considering for your talents as you get older? What are some of your life goals not related to skating? Marc: I was thinking about that recently. The whole ‘future’ thing, and it made me wonder if I’ve done anything good in the past, aside from a good skateboard trick or something. I wonder if what I do or did in the past made anyone’s life better somehow. That’s a rough one. I guess basically the thought goes like, “Okay, so I’ve been skating for this many years, but do I have anything useful to offer outside of skateboarding? Have I learned anything practical in life aside from riding a skateboard? Do I have any value as a person off of my skateboard?” I feel shitty about the answers. But honestly, what can you say about being a pro skateboarder and not learning much aside from that? You’re almost constantly pulled in one direction or another by someone. You spend weeks here, days there, on the road a lot being wherever they need you to be so you can do the job you do. You don’t have large consecutive spaces of time to devote yourself to much else. I went to college for a few years and it became impossible for me to balance that with tours and filming and everything else, but I really enjoyed college. So who knows. I just want to skate for as long as skateboarding feels right for me. Q: Can you please tell me about your accomplished background as a child prodigy on the North Carolina Ping-Pong circuit? Marc: I got pretty good when I was a kid. State champion, 16 and under, when I was 12. I was Forrest Gump before Forrest Gump. Q:: What is hands down the ugliest trick in skateboarding? Marc: The one where you let your head blow up like a balloon, and then you start believing your own hype. I think that’s called the Tightrope or something. No one makes that look good. Sorry kids. Q: If Chocolate toured with Natural Koncept, what NK rider would you room with if you had to share a hotel? Marc: Whoever has the smallest balloon.
David Choe (born April 21, 1976, Los Angeles, California) is an American painter, muralist, graffiti artist and graphic novelist of Korean descent. He achieved art world success with his “dirty style” figure paintings—raw, frenetic works which combine themes of desire, degradation, and exaltation. Outside of galleries, he is closely identified with the bucktoothed whale he has been spray-painting on the streets since he was in his teens. Choe’s work appears in a wide variety of urban culture and entertainment contexts. For example, he provided the cover art for Jay-Z and Linkin Park’s multi-platinum album Collision Course, and created artwork to decorate the sets of Juno and The Glass House. In 2005, internet entrepreneur Sean Parker, a longtime fan, asked him to paint graphic sexual murals in the interior of Facebook’s first Silicon Valley office, and in 2007, Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg commissioned him to paint somewhat tamer murals for their next office. Although he thought the Facebook business model was “ridiculous and pointless,” Choe, an inveterate gambler, chose to receive company stock in lieu of cash payment for the original Facebook murals. His shares were valued at approximately $200 million on the eve of Facebook’s 2012 IPO. Those murals were loosely re-created by Choe’s friends Rob Sato and Joe To for the set of the film The Social Network. During the 2008 presidential race, Choe painted a portrait of then-Senator Barack Obama for use in a grassroots street art campaign. The original was later displayed in the White House.
Leonardo Drew born in Tallahassee, Florida, 1961
Lives in San Antonio, Texas & Brooklyn, New York EDUCATION The Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art, New York, NY, B.F.A.,1985 Parsons School of Design, New York, NY, 1981-1982
Brian Oldham was born in April of 1993 in Orange, CA, USA. He grew up as an only child with a thriving imagination, playing elaborate games of fiction and fairytales. Now 19, Brian works as a freelance photographer, specializing in fashion and fine art photography. He began taking photographs at the age of sixteen, and as he experimented with self portraiture and surrealism, his love of photography blossomed as he taught himself how to create freely. Brian keeps his passion of all things beautiful and strange ever present in his work, creating surreal, conceptual images that transport the viewer to new worlds. Brian is currently living and working in the Los Angeles area, and is available for commissioned work internationally. 17
an interview with the JAPANDROIDS Japandroids an amazing Canadian rock duo from Vancouver, British Columbia. The group consists of Brian King (guitar, vocals) and David Prowse (drums, vocals). Formed in 2006, Japandroids rose to prominence in 2009 following the release of their debut album Post-Nothing. The group toured extensively throughout 2009–2010, earning praise for their energetic live performances. Their sophomore album, Celebration Rock, was released on May 29, 2012 in Canada and June 5, 2012 internationally. Question: When Celebration Rock was announced, a lot of people were like, “It took long enough.” Dave Prowse: That’s how we felt, too. Q: Why the wait? Brian King: It’s basically been three years since Post-Nothing, but two of those were spent touring, and the other was spent trying to figure out how to make another album piece-by-piece. We don’t operate like a lot of normal bands do; we didn’t even decide we were going to do a second record until the start of 2011. I mean, right before Post-Nothing came out in 2009, we decided we didn’t want to be a band anymore. But when that record started gaining momentum, we thought, “Let’s see what happens.” We were just going to do the tours because we always wanted that experience, but it always seemed like we were on borrowed time. DP: After coming back from tour, I thought I was gonna enjoy being back home in Vancouver more than I did. But it’s just very difficult when you’re used to being constantly stimulated and having new places to explore, and then coming back and being sedentary again. It was a weird change, being home wasn’t inspiring the way it once was. 18
BK: It’s anticlimactic. The band has just spent two years traveling the world playing shows every night, which is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to us, and then all of sudden we’re right back to square one. There are no shows to play, no tours to go on, and we have to make a whole new record before we can do that again. We have a really different perspective than some other bands because making the records is just a formality for us, in some sense. It’s not like I’m this super creative person who needs to express myself musically-it’s more like we just need to record in order to play more shows. DP: I hate being in the studio. BK: Me too. Q: Do you think that wait-and-see outlook has anything to do with the fact that you’re both a lot closer to 30 than 20? BK: It’s more about knowing this is our chance. Most people don’t get second chances, and we were aware that we got really lucky. Doing the new record was no different from the tours: If it got so bad that we wanted to beat the shit out of each other, maybe it’s not worth it. Otherwise, what are we complaining about? DP: Brian and I were friends for a long time before this band and, beyond anything, we wanted to maintain our friendship. That makes us a bit more hesitant than some other bands, in terms of pushing everything to the extreme. The idea of running the band into the ground until we have a fist fight on stage is not something either of us are interested in. BK: We weren’t strangers who met on Craigslist with the goal of getting famous. We started the band for all the right reasons: We liked the same bands, listened to the same music, went to the same shows, and we were just like, “Let’s try to do something like that ourselves.” Then, when it starts to go downhill, it’s like, “Let’s just stop so we can still be friends and hang out.” It’s not like, “Oh, fuck him!” If we think we’re heading on that path, we’ll stop, and it’s fine. We won’t have to deal with all the one-on-one stresses and pressures that come with being a two-person band and having to totally rely on one another for every single thing. At the same time, there’s no point in letting it all be undone because we did actually find some success. Pitchfork: It sounds like you were pretty close to that happening though. BK: A couple times, for sure. DP: Honestly, every band goes through that, though a lot are hesitant to discuss it. BK: If you’re in a five-person band, you can always find a new person to play that instrument. How many of our contemporaries have had the exact same lineup since the day they started? Very, very few. We’ll run into bands we’ve toured with at SXSW a year later and there’s a new bassist or drummer. That’s very common. We don’t have that luxury. DP: We have to work our shit out.
Brian king’s main guitar Fender Telecaster Deluxe Black Dove
Q: How was making this album different than making Post-Nothing? BK: With Post-Nothing, we were making it just for us, and we weren’t expecting anyone outside of our friends to hear it. It wasn’t for other people. It never occurred to us that a total stranger would hear the song and it might mean something to them. For this one, we knew there was an audience there waiting and that, even though they live thousands of miles away, it might mean something to them in the same way that we like records made by people from previous generations, or that we’ve never met. Like, I’ll put on a Replacements record that was made when I was an infant and it’s just like: bam! So when I was sitting down to write words, it was a totally different mental process. It’s hard because I want people to identify and relate and feel personally close to what I’m saying, but at the same time I live a life that is now very difficult for people to relate to. You listen to a song like the Replacements’ “Can’t Hardly Wait”-- it never occurred to me that that might have certain ideas in it because they may have written it in a van somewhere. They’re not writing that song at home or at a bar; they’re making it happen out there in the world. Q: It sounds like you’re trying to reconcile how you’re living out this dream on tour, but the realities of touring aren’t exactly what you dreamed of. BK: Or the battle between it being a dream and how hard it is to sustain the dream continuously and indefinitely. It’s hard on the body. All your relationships change; everyone stays at home and you go. And now you’re meeting way more people all the time, but for really brief periods. You’re seeing more than you thought you’d ever see, but at the same time you’re not seeing very much at all. There was no question it was gonna be some kind of influence on the record, because it’s the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to us in our whole lives. The trick is to be able to take those experiences and talk about them in a way that’s not exclusive. Nobody wants to listen to a record of a band talking about touring. Q: A lot of the lyrics on the album take advantage of this universal, mythic rock’n’roll language, like on “Fire’s Highway”: “Hearts from hell collide/ On fire’s highway tonight/ We dreamed it, now we know.” BK: Personally, I really like the concepts of good and evil, heaven and hell-- the extreme boundaries of how people can feel and how fast things can change. I like that that language. I’m not talking about just some night you felt a certain way, I’m talking about the night you felt that way-- that one time. People have always alluded to those extremes as a way of characterizing the most intense feelings since blues and the early days of rock. A blues singer won’t be like, “We broke up.” He’ll say, “Satan stole my baby from me.” You just pick it up.
Q: The album also reads like something of a redemption narrative, where the beginning is all about “Evil’s Sway”, and that leads to Q: You’ve talked about Guns N’ Roses and the Replacements, two bands from different sides of the rock’n’roll spectrum-- even if Tommy Stinson has been in both of them. BK: Guns N’ Roses and the Replacements do the same thing to me; the Replacements mythology is different from the Guns ‘N Roses mythology, but they’re still rock mythologies. In the small town where I grew up, everyone liked Guns N’ Roses and Nirvana. It wasn’t one or the other. It wasn’t like Nirvana killed hair metal. Everyone still liked AC/DC and Led Zeppelin and the Beatles, too. That idea of the musical historical context of different kinds of rock music just didn’t exist.
Q: One lyric that stood out to me on the album is “waiting for a generation’s bonfire to begin,” on “Adrenaline Nightshift”. What did you have in mind when you wrote that? BK: It’s about the idea of people waiting for something to happen, while everything actually happens while you’re waiting. It’s no different now than it was in our parents’ generation. You can live your life waiting for it, or you can try to make it happen. Right now, I feel like we’re trying to make it happen for ourselves; a lot of people we know are in that waiting stage. That’s a continual theme in our music: Waiting is doing nothing. We have to do something, otherwise we’re exactly like the generation before us. What that thing is, I don’t know. But that idea doesn’t really go out of style, because no one figures it out. It’s like how love songs never go out of style because no one’s ever written one that’s closed the book on the subject. Q: The last song on the record, “Continuous Thunder”, is the closest you’ve gotten to a love song. BK: With thzzat song, the idea was to try and do something that wasn’t what we refer to as a “blitzkrieg” from start to finish. So many of our songs feel like they’re not good enough until they are a blitzkrieg-- we’re like, “This part’s not blitzkrieg enough!” We always need to figure out how a song can be super fucking intense the entire time. Until that happens, it’s not done. But, with “Continuous Thunder”, we wanted to proactively have something that was not this big epic thing. DP: That was a much harder song to write. It’s not a format we’re as comfortable with. BK: We’re still figuring it out. But if the record comes out and people seem to really respond to us writing that kind of song, then I’m sure it won’t be the last one. Q: On the other hand, “The House That Heaven Built” may be the most epic song you’ve ever made. BK: I remember recording the vocals to that because I didn’t realize the melody was just outside my regular vocal range until I was about to record. There are a few notes that I just can’t hit in that song, straight up. [Engineer] Jesse [Gander] was literally standing there beside me, encouraging me to push my voice as hard as it could go, and it created this really raw-sounding, throaty vocal. When I first heard it back, I thought, “This is terrible! I can’t even hit that note! We can’t use it!” [laughs] But Dave and Jesse were really into it, and they convinced me it was really good. Q: Thanks so much for sitting down with me DP: Any time.
10 albums to listen to
Steven Wilson Luminol
Yo La Tengo
The Flaming Lips
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Jay-Z Magna Carta Holy Grail
Edward Sharpe & the Magnetics Zeros Self Titled
Grizzly Bear Shields
Fitz & The Tantrums
Random Access Memories
More Than Just A Dream
Published on Jul 26, 2013