Hidden in the Wasatch mountains, on the Northeast tip of Utah, there exists a band; a group of men so illusive you may hardly know they exist. Rumors of encounters with these mysterious individuals are often mentioned but never confirmed. Like ghosts they travel from venue to bar, bar to venue, sometimes not making appearances for months at a time. If and when they do, legend has it, translucent lights shine like giant fireflies in the sky, and thunder roars like the devil's stock car engine tearing through the night as voices of old souls in search of their lost innocence sing songs about salvation and the eternal beauty of the fight."Hello there ladies and gentlemen. We're Blind Iris."
