My name is Peter Gilliver. I am in a London based band called Wondergeist, along with my bandmates Sam Stretch and Sam Lott. We released our first album as a three-piece this year called ‘The Gulf.’ This is how we got there.
Gas stations have always been a cornerstone of exploration. A glimpse into a different world every time you enter those doors lathered in other peoples fingerprints and rust from the hinges. We want to give you that feeling of going head first into a place that has room for exploration, where the possibilities never cease and the road always winding. But the first place every great trip starts and all good travelers go to share their tales is the gas station.
This project is really just the natural progression of my seemingly endless need to throw sounds together until they resemble something along the lines of a song. I’m excited to see where I can take amphibian sibling and how I can benefit people with music as I’ve benefited from others’ music.
by Day & Dream
Day & Dream is a husband-wife team, Peter Frizzante, the morning person, and Abby Amaya, the night owl – our band name is a nod to our opposite sleep schedules. We are often writing music or lyrics at home in between work and daily chores, finding inspiration in personal relationships, nature, and risk-taking.
by Gloria Guns
When my maternal grandmother was eighteen years old, she left her home in what is now North Korea to head south so she could study nursing. It was while studying there that the country split into North and South Korea, leaving her family trapped on the other side of the border. To this day, she has never been back to her birthplace and has not heard from her family ever since.
I began with a classical training from age eight on violins made by my grandfather, from a half size to three quarter, then to his “number 2” with a finessed fiddleback grain in high glaze. His Luthier’s hands I remember as large and gnarly as they would trace the creases of my palm to elucidate future prospects. After ten years of scales and arpeggios working my way through graded texts filled with compositions by the gifted and deceased, a final concert in the embers of 1990 marked the occasion of my last musical performance on stage, aside from dreams.
Barely 12 months passed before my own strange sounds were committed to cassette tape for the first time, born of a natural necessity to do, and it was this background of prescribed exam pieces that gave me something to react against.