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The room is dark. The smoke hangs in the air, like a silk veil hiding the true nature of the nighthawks littered around it. A rugged, cynical detective, his hat on the bar bench, forlornly sips his scotch in the back. This is the world that Dean the Wise seeks to create. Upon hearing the velvety croon of Dean the Wise, you would be forgiven for thinking that he comes straight out of a hardboiled New York fantasy. But out the recesses of Sydney's Inner West is the where voice behind Dean the Wise hails. Blending the class of Sinatra with the mystique of Interpol and the ambitions of a Tame Impala or a Radiohead, the aim is to create a dense and believable sonic world for you, the listener, to transport yourself to any time you find yourself craving a moment of dark allure. A noir city of loose ends and old fashioned grandeur. For years, the songs that make up 'Dean the Wise' have sat on the shelf gathering dust; a centrepiece in the trophy case of the anxiety that was keeping them