The members of Grass Monkey coined he phrase "jambilly" in an attempt to describe their toe tappin; head bobbin; raucous renditions of traditional tunes and originals that keep the room goosed up. Their combination of idyllic instrumentation and booty bouncing beats lends them a potency capable of making any room energized.
Everything is okay here ;) Good Luck with the cd-recording! I have a recording-studio here, a really nice one as well, specially equipped for acoustic folky stuff... Just looking for a new building. It was indeed a (very) local radiostation, but I know quite a lot of people listened to it. Hope you don't mind me playing a cover of your song-> I really like to play it sometimes -> good memories!
Spenser, thanks for your kind words about my paintings. Shoot me a message if you want to visit my studio again. I still work there although the building is mostly closed to the public now. Your band is lots of fun. Going to try to make it to the battle at the Taubman. Cheers.
Transistors bridge where your vanity would never go. The elves that play in the toasters wash their drum sticks in honey and sing strikingly colored anthems in perfect harmonious pleasure. Your essence is equal to the beauty of a galaxy. In your presence even my shadow acquires the sensation of touch. Your layers of absinthe and torsion form concretions of hyper-alimentation. You are dressed with filaments and people take pains to make you fully incandescent this evening. You breath as delicately as vapors flowing towards an attractive flame. Blinking reveals the true visage of beauty hidden within your eyes. Your eyes show as many deep and full shades of fire as a thousand supernovas. So charmingly silky, your skin is like a teardrop on a popsickle. Your tears evoke a taste as memorable as honey. I love your eyes, I know they can stare through my thoughts. How can I help but use your eyes as a means for self-asphyxiation? Please let me hear more of that wonderful sound. I desire to see life through your hallucinations so that they massage my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux.
