Ever wonder what it’d sound like if Jimi Hendrix and Kurt Cobain had a baby, baptized in a purple haze of feedback and Pacific Northwest rain? Then, imagine that voodoo love child was raised on the streets of Sunnyvale by Stephen Malkmus and John Frusciante, carrying their irreverent, golden soul in every lick.

You’re welcome.

Led by Eran Naveh, this project is where high-voltage, blues-infused guitar style crashes head-first into 90s indie-rock nonchalance. It is melodic, it is messy, and it’s fueled by a warm, golden-hued resonance that feels like an oasis in a landscape of digital noise. Eran's guitar alchemy, well-crafted blueprints and lyrical wit balance the loose energy of a feedback-heavy jam with structured, intentional songwriting. You might picture a Hendrix-style electric fever dream that got stranded in a 90s basement and spent the winter drying out in a Montana cabin. Listen closely though, and you'll hear the weathered skepticism of a generation born into a digital void, along with the sunset of the analog age. 

Eran's vision is brought to life by a crew of unlikely characters who transform these blueprints into a living wall of sound. Brad Thornton injects the project with a grizzled Big Sky Country sensibility and raw vocal grit, grounding the layers in something visceral and earthy. The foundation is built on a sophisticated groove: Kern Sigala mans the kit with fluid, fusion-heavy flair and a layer of vocal harmonies, while Jake Cherry anchors the low end with tasteful, precise bass lines that even Sir Paul might wish he wrote.

Together, they navigate the band’s signature golden-hour frequency—a sonic collision that bridges California suburbia with burnished, timeless old-world soul. It’s an organic feel that sounds exactly like home through a cranked tube amp.