A common mistake many young entertainers make is not knowing how or when to quit while he or she is ahead. That's not something the YouTube artist known as the HandFartMaster succumbs to during his cover of Bruce Springsteen's 'Born to Run.' While he does finish before the song's climax ("1-2-3-4 / The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive") he leaves us wanting more.

However he also leaves us with a few questions, like how does he make those long notes? How is he able to work his way up and down the gastric scale in a single hand fart? Who wears denim shirts in 2012? Is that a Looney Toons logo over his breast pocket? And finally, why is he being forced to share his craft in a drab, dark suburban prison cell instead of a real stage with lights, amplifiers and a front row full of wanton women willing to pop their tops when he hits that impossibly high note?

"Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims / and strap your hands 'cross my engines."

This Harry Potter doppleganger is truly talented, and over the course of the last year he's picked up some new tricks for his trade. Did you see that pinky fly up early in the performance? That's a veteran move our bushy eyebrowed friend recently adopted (one figures he'll soon be playing with his back to the camera). That's right, there are more of these videos. His channel on YouTube has clips of him playing his handmonica over cuts by the Band, the Beatles, Europe and AC/DC.

(This brief pause is to allow the reader to make a "handmonica" joke. Go ahead, we did it too.)

Still, there is room for improvement. Even Springsteen doesn't take what he does as seriously as the HandFartMaster, and that's saying something. The teen could mix in some facial expression -- his robotic approach loses its charm after a minute or two, and is especially disappointing during his noble recreation of Clarence Clemons' sax solo.

"But till then tramps like us / baby we were born to run," he squeaks out to close the chorus. Bravo! young monsieur. And congratulations on convincing London to loan you Big Ben as a wristwatch.

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