I’ve always said there’s nothing hotter than looking over at a stoplight and seeing a girl alone in the car next to you, singing along at the top of her lungs, without a care in the world, to the song on the radio. It doesn’t matter if the windows are rolled up and you can’t really hear her, or her voice sucks. It’s about the act. For me it’s about the passion and the lack of inhibition, the very idea that she doesn’t give a shit if you’re listening or not.
A 300 pound she-man troll rolling in a Hyundai crooning Alicia Keyes is sexy enough, but add a dash of cute on top of that and you’ve got pure honey.
So if you don’t know her already, let me introduce Lykke Li… Her voice is strong, ‘Dance, Dance, Dance’ is a perfect song and her presence is captivating. I’m not usually a fan of those crazy ass, high-wasted pants, but she wears them well. And besides, who am I to judge? I’m typing this while wrapped in an old bathrobe that smells like lentils.
Lykke Li & Bon Iver doing ‘Dance Dance Dance’ in L.A from Lykke Li on Vimeo.
