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Papaya Fuzz

As dirty as it can get… Running around naked under the streetlights of an unknown city, it’s way past midnight and we are the mutating wolves of next generation’s disaster, smashing a few rear-view mirrors, puking in front of people’s front doors… we are useless animals screaming in a dark night with some Papaya Fuzz songs in our wasted minds… fucking like beasts under the desperate glance of blurred stars… Papaya Fuzz doesn’t exists anymore as a band, but their records keep burning amplifiers… The band buried itself in huge party at the legendary Fri-Son in Fribourg… some mexican funerals full of sugar and colors… a mad, loud, intense and joyful procession through the night.
Subterranean frantic voodoo magic / Animal Moon Rising /Samba skull's danger

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