My theory is that the only people who hate hipsters are hipsters. Where I come from my friends and family don't even know what they are. The only people that talk about hipsters are hipsters.
My theory is that the only people who hate hipsters are hipsters.
Nobody hates hipsters more than hipsters.
Hipsters being hipsters, coolness and inaccessibility have overtaken all other concerns. Food no longer matters. Even burgers are too foody. All a restaurant needs to be now is a place with bricks and exposed plumbing where you can take an edgy selfie that will make your friends feel like they are missing out.
You don't write on tour; it takes all your concentrating to make the gig - that's survival technique. Afterwards, you run around town to find interesting hipsters and go to all the interesting spots. You got to go to every hotspot until everything has closed down.
Spontaneous kindness is to hipsters as high beams are to deer.
Future hipsters will love me ironically.
Hipsters, flipsters and finger-poppin' daddies: knock me your lobes.
I honestly think hipsters eat with their assholes because they consume everything wrong.
NYC is a wonderland full of passionate music fans. Once I got over being intimidated by rock critics and finicky hipsters, I realized that NYC was a great place to play.
I like Portland. It's a cute city. You've got a lot of twirly mustaches and things - I'm into that, the hipsters.
Whether it's spending more time and money at thrift shops for threads (anti-consumerist threads, mind you), or combing the record store for the most unknown/least coherent band they can find, there's one thing that hipsters constantly want you to know: that they are better than you.
They were like the man with the dungeon stone and gloom, rising from the underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining.
Hipsters. We all know one. They're those fun, little, arrogant people who let the ideal of 'anti-consumerism,' combined with a hatred for all things normal, dictate their every action.
It feels like a perfect night, to dress up like hipsters, and make fun of our exes.
I don't write music for critics or hipsters. I write for me.