Aldo knows he's grinning like a loon, but can't help it. He's always hated being asked the obvious question of what kind of music the band played. Could only ever answer in the vaguest of terms. Bit of this, bit of that. Sort of stonery, bluesy punk rock thing with a metal s***h classical edge. He could never really define or articulate what he thought of as the band's sound. But Gappa Bale could. Gappa Bale fuckin got it.
“Well, thanks very much…” Aldo begins.
“And I can understand that you may be suspicious of what I have offered you,” Bale interrupts again. Aldo hates when people talk over him, but he finds he doesn't mind so much when Gappa Bale does it. There's a politeness, a charming authority to him that makes you feel you should just shut up and listen because he knows what he's
