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THE STORY At times, when your ears are ringing, and you say to yourself: Fucken hell, that band was loud, there's a tinge of regret in your mind when you say it. Usually, it's a combination of the following: -The band was shit, -Their music was boring, -They looked like every other rock (glam, punk, kiddie-punk, goth, etc) band, -You think, I could have played better, -They have the ugliest bitches screaming for them -Why are they dressed like they're a cover band???? -Why don't they just become a cover band???? And then there's a band....forged in the shitty little pubs and bars, and crappy little corners someone's called a stage on the streets of Melbourne....who are about more than the music....who think about fans copying what they're wearing....who arent TRYING to be anything, but are simply themselves. And suddenly, the ping! is worth it. In fact, you wish you had caused it. But you haven't. You can only watch. And listen. They are not famous....they are not someone's sister,