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John Mayer. Some people say he’s a tool — and maybe he is — but it’s kind of hard to deny that he has the golden voice of a slow-pop God. Even though it was cool to like him four years ago, I have to give the guy props where props are due and say that this is a luscious cover. So luscious I wish it was on iTunes so I could turn it up while I lie on my bed tonight and cry about my very own bad boy, C. Bale.
(the original video is here, but for some reason (John’s toolishness?) we can’t embed that one)
Now that the weather is finally starting to stay warm, it’s time for me to switch up the tunes. Goodbye sad, somber, and as my best friend calls “suicide music;” Hello happy, sassy beats.
