Honey Shake Me begins and ends by answering the question, with peals of fingerpicked laughter and distantly squealing pedal steel, how would it feel to french exit on your whole goddamn life? To just pack it up and hit the bricks: exhilarating, delicious, an AM radio soundtrack cutting through the receding smog, a little silver-lined cloud of sadness trailing the busted sedan in which you're speeding west.


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