You dang kids. Going to "country" concerts in your Honda Civics, smoking your pot behind the port-a-potties. Back in my day* we had real country music, Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins. Not this twangy-pop garbage that pretends that all you have to do to be country is throw on jeans and a cowboy hat, while you wait for NBC to cast you as a celebrity judge on The Voice. Daggum rotten little sdfggggggggggggg...

At this point Michael collapsed on his keyboard, blackout drunk after downing two 12oz bottles of Fat Tire Amber Ale. We apologize for the interruption. Your regularly-scheduled Android Police free album post will now commence without the musical commentary.

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