Pitchfork 2025 isn’t a music festival
It’s a cultural mind warp with a killer soundtrack
Get ready to hallucinate in hi-fi
Crocs will be melted
Playlists will be questioned
And your sonic comfort zone? Obliterated
If your therapist had a favorite artist
It would definitely be Blood Orange in Paris
Catch the vibe or get caught in the algorithm
King Gizzard is melting strings
Laurie Anderson is bending time
And you’re still asking who’s headlining
This isn’t a concert
It’s a genre-fluid sermon for the spiritually underwhelmed
Stay weird or stay home
The algorithm can’t save you now
Pitchfork 2025 is rewriting the code
See you in Paris or in your existential crisis
