Their eyes burnt by the glowing landscapes of the electronic revolution. Their teeth sharpened to the sounds of a youthful uprising. Hating the Beatles before they loved them. Blood brothers to their instruments, idols of procreation and pro-creation. Aged by the sun. Singing the sounds of a now-nameless generation.
Raised in the cornfields of the Bible Belt, the industrial wasteland of Cleveland, Ohio, the rolling hills of the Lake Michigan coast and the burnt desert of the Golden State. The four members now emerge from the dark hollows of Portland, Oregon.
It is the sound of flux. The response to a United Federation of States run by the few. A response to growing up tormented by idols and enemies. Their sound is a refuge from data, meetings and humans. In a world of mindless pop culture, we offer you an escape from the masses. Mass media is no longer the cure. What we offer you is our cure. A sound we call Paradise.
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