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About Hamburg

“Wanna hear a riff?” I ask, jokin’. She smirks, “Play me somethin’ sexy.” Hella fun, that was – spark in the dark. Didn’t go for it, tho – morals, y’know? “Good goy, you are,” she teases, Coen-style. Walked off, I did, hummin’ – night’s wild, man! Prostitutes, they’re survivors – real talk. Next gig, I’ll write her a song – “The Lamppost Blues.” Do or do not, right? Fuckin’ A!

Maurice Breier

I'm always trippin’ on these details – the chirpy street markets, the odd stones in the pavement that seem to hum a tune. I laugh 'bout it sometimes, like, c’mon, even a stone’s got a story. Maybe too many lapses in thought; sorry if I repeat stuff, but it’s all real feelin’, ya know?