Ty Segall is a bad moon rising. Ty Segall smells like victory. Ty Segall is what happens when good people do bad angel dust. Ty Segall is the sound of one hand crapping. Ty Segall is what happened to the dude that sold you shitty brown weed in the boy’s room of the seventh grade of your mind. Ty Segall is what happens when you give Sam Kinison a tab of purple sunshine and a copy of The Slider instead of a bag of coke and Appetite For Destruction. Ty Segall is what would have happened if the Butthole Surfers started in a Laguna Beach garage in 1965 instead of the rectum of Gibby Hayne’s mind in 1981. Ty Segall is the voice in your head that tells you to start fires. Ty Segall is the Golem of indie rock. Ty Segall is even better than the real thing. Ty Segall is the sound of dick picks. Ty Segall cannot be stopped. Ty Segall is habit-forming. Ty Segall causes sweating and dizziness. Ty Segall will never be legal. Ty Segall is slowly killing you. One day there will be a cure for Ty Segall. But until then we have a pair of tickets to see Ty Segall do the Ty Segall thing all over the Trocadero stage tonight. To qualify to win you must look in the mirror and say Ty Segall’s name 10 times in a row and then send an email to PHAWKER66@Gmal.com with your full name and mobile number for confirmation with the magic words REVERSE SHARK ATTACK in the subject line. Good luck and godspeed!