You get what you give, in every single situation.
We’re a three-piece band; we grew up in different places, met two years ago and started up playing in a basement that now we can call our own. It’s awful and depressing that in Greece, you never get much attention or the respect you deserve as an artist, except if you are a rapper, a metaller, or a traditional type musician. It’s so hard to find live gigs here when you play the kind of music we do. I believe that this is one of the main reasons we need to get out of here for good if we get the chance.
The name of the band comes from my brother’s syndrome Mobius and it has to do with facial nerve paralysis and being expressionless, which happens to remind me of what I think about the world I live in, paralyzed, and emotionless.
The Terminally Well are an independent American rock band conceived of and formed by Rob Runkle – who has previously released several album’s worth of music as Intense “The Bohemian Pimp” from Philadelphia hip-hop group Schoolz of Thought (having worked with Questlove of The Roots, 88-Keys, Pink, Scratch, Zap Mama and Illmind, among others).
To the best of my recollection, I can’t recall ever being tear-gassed.
My first instinct should probably have been to turn around and run away from the plaza, just like everyone else who went scampering, screaming and covering their mouths. The old, indigenous woman, with the multiple petticoats and black pork pie hat, sitting at her usual location half-way up the block, from whom I usually bought a daily newspaper, suddenly bent over and vomited. Moments before, I had heard a “pop-pop” and saw white, billowing clouds of smoke. A young Ecuatoriano adult, running in a hooded sweatshirt, gave a sudden yelp and stumbled, after getting hit in the leg with one of the tear gas canisters.
The ambition of Syrenomelia is to find back the strangeness, the dirtiness, the emotion and passion which characterised the alternative rock music between the 60ties and late 90ties – defying the industrialised and genre-focussed ways of making music that have been so ubiquitous in the last 20 years.
In 2018, I completed my first LP album as a solo artist. It is called Kriya and features ten tracks (in 37 minutes). I later realized that even though I spent a lot of time and energy on the album, most people wouldn’t be able to listen to it from start to finish in today’s hectic times. So, I decided to tell the story of finding our center (relevant to each of us!) in the form of a shorter 3-track EP, where each song represents a different genre, a different sound, and lyrically offers a diverse point of view. The Hara EP (10 and a half minutes) was born.
The time to start a musical project should probably have been in a university where access to a range of different musicians was abundant. But then most people choose to learn the hard way…
The New Nervous Kind was created in the wake of the university with nothing more than a laptop (to program drums), a guitar, and a bass guitar, with the help of a trusty microphone. The setting was an isolated attic space, far from friends or family, which would serve well as the basis for the nostalgic lyrics and mechanical quality for our first single “Going Nowhere.”
It is Free!! It costs nothing!! Stated the elderly anesthesiologist to the boy’s family. To put your son to sleep for his surgery costs absolutely nothing!! It is Free!! Free!! But to wake him up??………very very expensive!!
Moments earlier, in the same pre-operative area in this public hospital in a large Central American city, I witnessed another local medical doctor, drill a metal rod horizontally and completely through an indegenous patient’s femur, with the patient wide awake, and only after injecting numbing medicine, not much deeper than the skin, on the entry site of the thigh.
Such is the plight of the poor and marginalized, of which I have witnessed as an anesthesiologist, in over 30 international surgical missions, and which dominate the lyrical content of Ojos Feos’ original psychedelic Afro-Latin rock compositions.