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"INGRINA wishes headaches upon you: two drums, three guitars, lost voices in the magma, and one crushing bass just here to stick the decibel meter in the red zone. But INGRINA also comes up with a remedy made from ether vapours and airborne feathers. Due to their daily routine that revolves around shaky self-builds, stormy oceans, failed revolutions and bankrupt businesses, INGRINA's members have an unhealthy obsession with tempests hidden amongst our frozen and quiet world. This whole affair was only relevant to them, until the social pressure and the unbreathable air around them was too vicious to handle. The sea walls suddenly broke, the flows were released, fields got flooded, and now the virus is spreading, for everyone's sake."

Photo by : Sylvestre Nonique-Desvergnes