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Get Excited for Nitehawk’s Angelo Badalamenti Series & David Lynch’s LOST HIGHWAY
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Mystery Man: We’ve met before, haven’t we.
Fred Madison: I don’t think so. Where was it you think we met?
Mystery Man: At your house. Don’t you remember?
Fred: No. No, I don’t. Are you sure?
Mystery Man: Of course. As a matter of fact, I’m there right now.
Fred: What do you mean? You’re where right now?
Mystery Man: At your house.
Fred: That’s fucking crazy, man.
Mystery Man: Call me. Dial your number. Go ahead.
Who Are You?

FUNNY HOW SECRETS TRAVEL
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One morning, David Lynch awoke to hear his intercom buzzing. A man’s voice on the other end spoke, referring to him as “Dave.” Lynch answered, “Yeah?” and the man said, “Dick Laurent is dead.” Lynch said, “What?” but there was no one at the door. And he’d never heard of a Dick Laurent. He looked out to the large window on the other side of his house by the door, but again, no one there. 
A typical morning for the man who has provided us with some of the most powerfully psychological fright and pleasure? Maybe. An inspiration for one of his greatest films? Definitely. If a Lynchian universe all exists within the mind, somewhere between waking and consciousness, Lost Highway is that moment in a nightmare where your body begins to panic, knowing this is not quite reality but you’re stuck, you cannot wake yourself up and in dreams you must visualize physically prying your eyes open and screaming aloud in order to escape. 
Traveling Back Down David Lynch’s ‘Lost Highway’
One morning, David Lynch awoke to hear his intercom buzzing. A man’s voice on the other end spoke, referring to him as “Dave.” Lynch answered, “Yeah?” and the man said, “Dick Laurent is dead.” Lynch said, “What?” but there was no one at the door. And he’d never heard of a Dick Laurent. He looked out to the large window on the other side of his house by the door, but again, no one there. 
A typical morning for the man who has provided us with some of the most powerfully psychological fright and pleasure? Maybe. An inspiration for one of his greatest films? Definitely. If a Lynchian universe all exists within the mind, somewhere between waking and consciousness, Lost Highway is that moment in a nightmare where your body begins to panic, knowing this is not quite reality but you’re stuck, you cannot wake yourself up and in dreams you must visualize physically prying your eyes open and screaming aloud in order to escape. 
Traveling Back Down David Lynch’s ‘Lost Highway’
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To me, jazz is the closest thing to insanity that there is in music.
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Must be from a real estate agent.
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Funny how secrets travel I’d start to believe  if I were to bleed Thin skies, the man chains his hands held high Cruise me blond Cruise me babe A blond belief beyond beyond beyond No return No return I’m deranged Deranged my love I’m deranged down down down So cruise me babe cruise me baby
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Album Art
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