Tuft

Ifuckingmmediately, this song has me by the balls I keep in my pants. Taking aspects of two distinct sound altars I have come to genuflect in front of and smooshing them together into something that both cups and massages the aforementioned balls I keep in my pants, TUFT not only has the best band name of the day, they're fucking spilling blood all over the aforementioned altars I mentioned before mentioning again my aforementioned balls I keep in my pants.

What does Tuft and the song "Stills" sound like?

This shit sounds like White Denim and Jason Isbell blended together into a delectable porridge and then masterfully simmered to a nice rolling boil and then served into bowls made of gem stones.

THEY'RE MINERALS.

Sorry Hank, they're fucking minerals.

I love bands I know nothing of that give me musical ball massages like this, because let's face it, nothing is more magical than having the balls you keep in your pants massaged through your ears you keep on the sides of your faces. 

HERE'S TO FINDING OUT MORE ABOUT TUFT, TELLING EVERYONE I KNEW ABOUT THEM FIRST, AND THEN LAUGHING BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY I DIDN'T, OBVIOUSLY I DON'T CARE IF YOU DID, AND OBVIOUSLY I'M APPRECIATIVE OF THE AFOREMENTIONED BALL MASSAGES I PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED IN REFERENCE TO THE BALLS I KEEP IN MY PANTS.

Also, I used to call my face Tuft a flavor saver and then shaved it off once I realized I looked like a chubby guy with a furry flighted poison dart stuck up his bottom lip, na mean?