We hate to look like that blog who gets way too hella geeked off of nearly every pop-gone-indie cover song they come across, nor do we want to seem like we're saying that the original material of twenty-something Yale student Conner Youngblood is not shout-out-worthy (quite the contrary, the singer-songwriter's unique, and consistently pleasant, brand of sleepy, bedroom folk-pop with the occasional experimental-electro twist is what lazy Sunday afternoons were made for), but mega-props are definitely deserved for what this guy does to one of post-millennial pop's most annoying creations.
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