History is full of smells. Past eras have their own sounds. Sick of stupid hits, tired of Margaret Tatcher and Ronald Reagan, disillusioned by Chernobyl, Bhopal, the war on drugs and a schizophrenic decade, the 1980’s developped a particular sound. Sadness had a different taste than before. The fall of walls gave youth different bloody dreams for their valentines’s sonic lunch club. It’s a few years later, when the comet of grunge exploded in a polluted dark sky, that The Ramblin Bombers got together in La Chaux-de-Fonds. It’s been a 15 years long melodic, poetic, dreamy, noisy roadtrip for The Ramblin Bombers until they organized their own funeral in 2009. With a mix of wisdom and lucidity they never chased sucess. We are a mushroom band, not too much light please as they say in an interview. The real stuff is somewhere else. A sound, a philosophy, a persistence that influenced an entire generation of lost swiss kids. No need to fit in a box. We can be everything. We can be nothing. We can be contradictory were telling us The Ramblin Bombers. Their name was an antithetical hommage to MC5 and Motörhead. No need to fit in a box. Let’s rock !

Nightdream community / Kick out the outlaw feast’s jam / After the cold rush wave