26 min. 2007-2008.

We used to play music in shelters. Get vinyls from abroad whenever we got the chance. If found in local stores, M. would break those same records so we'd exclusively own them... This was 1985. If the whole country was going to hell, our music was not going along with it. It was our life, our time. We were 14, 16 and 17. All I have from those memories and others that are much older are tapes that I found in a box, stored in the attic. Some memories are as old as me. I hear myself talk, I am a stranger's voice that seems to have belonged to me, but got lost somewhere in time. Somewhere in this Pandora sound box that I decided to organize one day.