Vince is the pizza guy, the telephone company guy, the grocery shop guy — honestly, he’s every guy. If there’s a job, a task, or a strange request that makes no sense, somehow Vince has already done it, mastered it, and written a short instructional manual about it. He is our big engine, the heart that keeps the entire chaotic machine running, even when none of us have slept or someone (usually Stian) has lost their guitar again. He is everything and the undisputed genius of creation in this band. Need a new riff? Vince has one. Need a last-minute harmony? He sings it. Need a completely unnecessary but incredibly cool stage idea? He built it last night using leftover pizza boxes and parts from a broken router. No one knows how he does it. We stopped asking. His energy on stage is something else entirely. When Vince enters performance mode, you can feel the temperature rise by at least five degrees. His presence is so massive that even the lights seem a little scared. And then there’s his signature move — the kick. The kick is not normal. He lifts his leg higher than human anatomy should allow, then spins 360 degrees like a malfunctioning helicopter trying to escape gravity. The first time he did it, half the audience ducked because they thought something was flying at them. The second time, someone claimed to see a flash of light and smell pepperoni. We still can’t explain it. Some say Vince is just a man. Others say he’s an ancient martial artist reincarnated as a musician with a part-time job at every store in town. All we know is: when Vince spins, the universe pays attention. We call him The Engine
Photo by: lilithshi