A drum that beats, heats and sizzles. Two bass guitars, ...storming bass quitars! Ponctuated by splutters, gurgles and pure, unadulterated babble. The occasional musical mine planted here and there and great clouds of laughing gas. A saturday night with an endless supply of kung fu films and popcorn. Psychedelic wanderings and that elusive something that gets inside your head. Sixties pop tripping out and waking up with an industrial hangover. They themselves call it regressive rock. They are the three wild beasts that are Le Singe Blanc.

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