They swore real pop music would return in all of its glory...again, someday! and they waited. and waited. and waited. but it never came. instead they saw and heard mindlessly numbing emulations. vapid rehashes. legions of "artists" clinching onto the pitchfork bandwagon, with all their angular post-punky hooks, garage band blues-riff hacks, and dancey gang-of-four-esque beats, void of what any talented legend in rock/pop history might call "a frame of reference." they were tired. and weary. all the people they loved were those that were dead. or basically almost there.
these are the attempts of four suburban boys to fill an overwhelming void in american music. pop. the way it should be. introducing... Pow Wow!