Lockdown Suite #2

Howlers

Inspired by the famous poem of the same name. Enjoy. Or don't. Go brush your teeth! Or don't.

Dover Beach

Stupid Little Song

Wake Akustik

Brandy (You're a fine Girl)

Monolith Demo

Psionic Kitten

Snail Away

Petrichor

Alpaka Ma Bags

It was a dark summer night in Berlin 1992 and thunder was breaking the blackened sky apart, when a hooded figure put a bundle of cloth infront of the doorstep of the Oaxs', and as he rang the doorbell, a laughter could be heard, gently blowing through the streets as if whispered by the wind itself, and with a flash of light and some quite over-the-top sparkly effects the hooded figure vanished as if it had never set foot on the threshold of said housing. Yet, not being accustomed to time and place it had travelled to, it misjudged two crucial points: first, that the supposed threshold was actually a garbage dumb (in his defence: it was one of the livelier ones in town, like, medium garbagy) and the aforementioned doorbell was nothing other than a broken parking-ticket machine, and 2. that although there was actually a family answering to the name Oax residing there, they just so happened to be a clan of kindhearted, yet sly and funky racoons. When MotherOax awoke from her furry sleep, she picked up the little bundle and was surprised to find in there, a baby. Since she and FatherRacoonMcOax, second of his name, Lord of McOax-Motte and the surrounding garbage, had failed to provide children to the clan, they decided to raise it as their own, and teach it their sly, racoony way of living. Thus began the adventures of Bardy Oax. Or not. I don't really remember.

Bardy Oax

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