With only a few records in our possession, along with fragile, music-drenched memories, we fell victim to the rock bottom beat. Memories of twangy country and dim lights, dirt roads and dirt floors, rusted cars and slimy bars, and rock n roll playing through busted speakers. They enhanced the ability for us to look past our dysfunction and provide music for the lonely, the broken, the scarred, and the beaten. Ballads of the underdog, nothing to prove, just wanting to shine in the night and connect with our dreams that constantly evade us. Busted bottles and broken dreams, the gutter kids in teh stream, we embrace it all.