The Damnsels

The Damnsels, a soon to be household name of the Trump-era. But, before they get there, a story must be told. One of vengeance and violence, or so I’m being told. Instead, I am going against the grain, because that's how one acquires fame. (Isn’t It?) No one expected these three fools to do what they did, nobody thought they were cool. One day they all met from different backgrounds and places. Eric Hathaway, a man who will raid your fridge, but only for beer. Chris Del Pozzo, who is to not to be mistaken for the Pratt, or Hemsworth or Evans, and Alex Leniz, a man with a plan and the size of a small tin can. All with one unified goal: Let’s go out and make it. Then out of the blue, they started to play tunes, ones that were piercing and loud, nothing new. Some called them dumbed down Green Day and Blink-182, so they set out on a mission with something to prove. Deep into the woods of Lakeland they went, in search for some meaning and depth to their set. Heads were scratched and fire’s not made, for they didn’t know how and couldn’t figure out a way. After little thought and reflecting, I’m sure, they came up with an idea that was too good to be true. Out of the woods they came, deserted, withered, enduring the pain. With a new focus that was instilled in their brains. Sticks and twigs matted all in their hair, with the smell and look of a small grizzly bear. They went directly to a venue cause they had something to share. At that very moment, when the mics turned on. A magic filled the air more and more with every song. As the crowd got louder and the chants grew strong, they knew they had something to hold on to. From that day forward there has been steady growth, all from three little misfits with bad dad jokes. So come one come all to see the rise, of The Damnsels a band that is bad on the eyes.