An alt-rock outfit, five chaps between Mankato and Minneapolis. We used to play covers, now we don't no more.

On a river one sunny afternoon in Venice, Italy, a G chord escaped from Mark's guitar and encountered a D emerging from Cory's. As this happened, Bennett's voice crooned from D, down through A, back up to G. And lo, who was piloting the gondola but Alex himself, who said, "I'm a drummer, fine gentlemen, and I know just the guy to round out this group." He informed bassist James of the news, and he promptly quit his job at Chef Boyardee. The five fellows returned to America, their eyes full of hope. Thus, in the lazy European summer, Cerulean Summer was born.