Forget Memorial Day, people. Summertime doesn't begin with a calendar date. It starts when someone with the above sunglasses enters the stage, counts off the band, and takes control of the air with the flute of interstellar mellow cruising. I love the little pillow fight between bass and guitar at 3:40 that resolves into a goofy flute and voice reconciliation a mere minute and a half later. Truly a reminder that we can all get along with a bit of effort.
The Chris Hinze Combination - Easy Answering
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