LALALA

The sounds of this track seem to come from melted asphalt, where the evening smells of petrol, cigarette smoke and lemon from cheap fizzy drinks. Everything here is a little skewed - the days are all the same, music blares from open windows, and dreams of glamour and fame are mixed with routine and tired jokes at the petrol station.

The rhythm rocks like an old Citroën on bumps: up and down, but it keeps going. Between the lines - fatigue and stubborn pride, when everything around you is falling apart, and you just turn up the volume and sing your ‘la-la-la’ so you don't hear reality cracking. A little rough, a little sad - but with that unmistakable taste of the street.