Warm buttered music for my soul.

Whenever I'm having a rotten day and feeling like a pile of crusted poop, I listen to one band that soothes my troubled soul. This band is Bread. Their voices are like silky bearded hippies crooning soft melodies to my ears. I wish I could go on a picnic with Bread. We'd make daisy chains and bury our feet in the warm dirt and spit cherry pits at the cows in the field and wear Levi's bell bottoms and polyester floral shirts. Bread is best experienced on vinyl. Barefoot. With the sun shining in through your window and a glass of lemonade sweating on your table, you'll feel like a corny, middle-aged high school art teacher in no time.