My somewhat modest success in the good ol’ music biz came rather late in life, and almost completely by accident. Although, having said that, a lot of hard work had gone into making that accident happen.
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).
I started Nocturnal Company when I got to Albuquerque, New Mexico, for my freshman year of college. I often stayed up all night in my dorm recording on my laptop with the only live instruments being guitar and keyboard. Luckily, my roommate stayed at his girlfriend’s dorm most of the time. That kid was a character, he smoked hella pot and took watermelons full of vodka to parties, where he feigned a french accent.
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.