What is a KleineComa? It's something that we've all been in for some time. That is, until Joel and B went Dr. Frankenstein and Egor on us and brought this monster back to life via the relaunch of this website.

Brandon is clearly Egor, because he walks in hobbly-knee-spina-bifida fashion more often than not. Primarily due to: long-gated hours in rickety recliners watching timeless re-runs of "Three's Company"; inordinate hours curled under his work desk maniacally trying to find the right words in a love letter to Robert Rodriquez'; OR ... (Joel, insert Trost joke here). But B doesn't deserve those aforementioned insults. In fact, B I think your mug shot artwork is sublime. You are a painter. And a poet. And from my knowledge, you are still bearded? I dare not insult your wizardy mystique.

Joel. The Dr. Frankenstein of this whole operation. Like said Dr., your ideas come off as wild, yet brilliant. Creepy, yet called-for. Inhumane, yet humane. Would, yet wood. Whenever you throw on that lab coat, slide on the goggles, and crank the switch, we watch through our fingers like a young lad watching, well, a Frankenstein flick. We fear the outcome. Potentially a pillaging man-beast with bolts shooting out of his aorta, who displays total reckless abandonment for humankind ...

But. In essence, that’s kind of what KlieneCo is, right? We don’t care what the audience thinks. It was always for us. For our entertainment. We knew what was funny to us and we replicated it. Through time, people picked up on our humor. Dug it. Began to talk like we do, act like we do, and they were always around no matter what avenue we pursued.

For example, did anyone ever want to hear Wolf-Gang play? (Wolf-Gang is a lost gem in the KleineCo catalogue; a musical act made up of a rag-tag group that constantly rotated - with one standby (read: me) always in the mix due to the ever essential guitar-playing know-how.) Wolf-Gang forcibly put on concerts. Crashed parties and just started making noise in whatever room occupied the most party patrons. Drove around at night looking for smoke pillowing into the air — assumed it was a bonfire — and penciled in our next gig. And then the one time we scheduled a concert — at the notorious Hechomovich pond — we showed up like 78 minutes late. Which leads me to reiterate: for KlieneCo, it has never been about the audience. And it never shall be.