Local Natives, “Who Knows, Who Cares”

Fandom is a dish best served in a French passageway. Damp and mustachioed. Here, my friends, is unabashed harmony that holds strong even as your knees buckle with admiration. One could even call it a swoon.

I’d say it was the impeccable facial hair, but tis more likely the unrivaled musicianship. Enjoy.

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