Rock's Sad Lexicon

These are the saddest of possible words

Laughner, punk’s singular po├Ęte maudit, takes the foxholed troubadour archetype to it’s final, inevitable endgame. His songs celebrate the sublime horror of post-romance. He can travel into the alley of the apocalypse on a whim. He goes and stands at every door. “It was one down for the leather boys. And one for the never-been-kissed.” Laughner’s melodrama folds in on itself like an origami egg and burns.

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