"Oh that starry night, lost my sense of time..."

Alexander Wolf is no mere mortal. I remember on particular evening when he came over to hang out in Beacon Hill. I think he missed the T home that night, so the lot of us decided to chill and talk. He was the last man standing. I consider myself a dedicated insomniac, but that particular evening, I was ready to fall asleep, which was already no easy feat as the the daylight was steadily shining through the windows in my room. Alexander? He merely shrugged, bid us a good day, and walked out into Boston to take the T home. I imagine he had quite a full day afterwards.





Roisin Murphy - Night of a Dancing Flame from Ruby Blue











Chris Hallenbeck probably hates you. Actually, I'm just kidding. He's never done anything to suggest that this statement would be true, and he's quite a lovely and caring fellow, but one day his dark core may overcome his genius and then you may need to watch out. Until then, he'll just out-obscure you on books and music and will throw your Killers albums out the window without thinking twice or even asking. Then he'll disinfect his hand.

In the winter once, we were bundled up outside, waiting for someone on the corner of Boylston St. and Tremont St. in front of the LB and we started singing Kenna songs to pass the time.




Kenna - Sunday After You from New Sacred Cow