Weller’s lyrics, especially on the first couple of albums, are like an open diary into the heart of what it is to be young - bursting with confidence, raging with anxiety, desperately trying staking out a place of your own.
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He invented a machine that converts music from the stereo into pain on the canvas. It did this by splattering the canvas with paint, in time to the music, until the entire canvas was covered in paint.
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