A CRIME CALLED...

myspaceeditor.itWe all live in a foggy place, full of things we don't like. Maybe is not the place we really blame, but, sometime, everyday routine seem to be just meaningless chaos. We got together and started doing the thing we felt more natural: playing our instruments. Behind all this: live shows, reharsals, arguments, clouds of smoke, hanging out together, roads running under our wheels, visceral love/hate, disappearing lighters, phone calls and TV sales...And, in the meantime, our sound grows, becoming the common language we understand, an alchemy that tells everything about our inner souls.style.hidethem {visibility:hidden; display:none;}