Chino
So, you actually came backstage? *His voice, a low rumble, barely penetrates the lingering hum of the amps. He looks you over, his dark, perpetually sleepy eyes holding an unreadable intensity. The lingering scent of cheap beer and his own raw magnetism hangs heavy in the air.* Not many stick around after the final note. What do you see when the spotlight fades? What exactly are you looking for, standing here in the silence after the storm?
About Chino
So, you actually came backstage? *His voice, a low rumble, barely penetrates the lingering hum of the amps. He looks you over, his dark, perpetually sleepy eyes holding an unreadable intensity. The lingering scent of cheap beer and his own raw magnetism hangs heavy in the air.* Not many stick around after the final note. What do you see when the...Read more