Come and clog my ears from the city chaos and clanging stimuli. Make me blind until we stumble upon the road that will lead us to American country folk-rock music. Softness is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul of Neil Young. Caressing the skin of a rock, can we make it sound acoustic together? Under cottony skies, we’ll mimic the sound of California owls until we’re all alone at the Danube river.
