A well kept secret. Two parisian nerds, some kinky claps, many try-outs, arpeggios “a go go” and kryptonite sandwiches. It started a long time ago, kids having fun with tapes and machines, outputting ugly re-edits, joining their forces into a dark quest – the nastiest.
One goal, one love. Playing music for battlefields, shaking the hips of god. Acid beats for white trash angels, cold wave for black panthers The sound of the holy trombones keeps everyone dancing till’ dawn.