An unholy alliance of influences that would lead one to believe we don’t even know each other (much less are in a band together), from Ween to Stevie Wonder to the Dead Kennedys, has spawned a funk-rock-child so insidious that we dare not speak its name. Musically speaking, we then take this rock-child and throw it at you. You then, musically speaking, are all like “oh no, a helpless funk-rock-baby!” and musically catch it. Then, musically speaking, we steal your valuables from your rock-pockets while your hands are full of funk-rock. Then, musically speaking, the rock-baby eats your face.