album

Album is a bunch of guys that have accomplished little in the way of walking the earth and getting into adventures. If not for the secret sect of Buddhist monks working in collusion with Taoists and Franciscans to form a rock band that would bring the truth to maybe ten or twenty kids tired of models singing about sex while promoting fast food restaurants and soda companies, the members of Album would have surrendered to the pervasive malaise of suburban life. 
 

The band takes specific pride in a lack of desire for sonic perfection and a reckless disregard for their listeners, who are, by and by, imaginary. You, if you are reading this ridiculous exercise in promotional science, are likely their first listener. As such, they love you, even if you are a jerk. It is their desire to rescue you from the boredom of listening to formulaic cliche-ridden music by artists who play to feel like rock stars. Album does this by writing formulaic rock songs riddled with cliches that will get stuck in your head, where Album hopes they will stay until your death, which Album hopes will be peaceful.