TT. Elzinga

You wake up with a burning headache in a strange bed. And through the fog of your memory you only relive vague glimpses of opulent streets, macabre back rooms, a police station and shiny convertibles. TT. Elzinga writes songs with the same haphazard verve: they all play out as random scenes of naive escapades, clumsy liaisons and nocturnal collapses.