I first heard these guys in a dark n rainy back alley after waking up with my cheek in a puddle. Why the rest of my body was warm and dry I could never quite figure, except that maybe I really did drink my face off that night.

Anyways, I still remember like it was yesterday (and maybe it was)… the luring far off smell of burnt alfalpha sprouts wafting out of a loppsided Vietnamese street truck with an overhead hand-painted sign that read “Pho Queue” (how can you forget a sign like that) … only to have my craving for sustenance interupted by the muffled cadence of drummer Spector Pudding (one of his earlier personas) reverberating through the black alley steel doors of “La Pistolaria”.  Then the hypnotic bass space opened, manipulated by the spirited digits of Raysono Non-Gratis. The soundtrack of my life. From that moment I was hooked.