Jon				Vocals
Kevin				drums/percussion, programing
Derek				bass
Scott				strings
Anan	strings

The Sad, Strange Case Of A Band Called Drifter

Drifter has been called many different things, from a hot young Cuban ensemble that mixes the best Latin flavor with a touch of Dixie spice to the new heirs to the throne left empty by the deaths of TV's Tim Conway and Grammy™-winning recording artist Harry Belafonte. Despite the fact that neither of those people are in any way dead, the above descriptions are absolutely untrue. It would be safer to say that there is a little piece of rock n' roll ground out there where curiosities are allowed to stake a claim, and Drifter fits into that tiny patch of earth nicely.

Drifter, or Dériver de la blanchisserie asiatique fait cuire as they're known in France, was born in the sleepy little hamlet of Normal, Illinois, out of the hell-carved hallways of Normal Community High School. No one can stay in High School forever, and though the members of Drifter tried (Scott especially) they had to graduate at some point. Kevin, Scott, and Anan then met up with a homeless, dirty English major named Jon and put him in front of a mic, hitting him in the back until he coughed up something resembling lyrics. Ever since then, Drifter has been a musical family. Dysfunctional? Oh yeah. But a family none-the-less.

Drifter loves contradiction, change of pace, and catching people off guard, which will probably help explain their live shows. The lyrics and songs of Drifter are often laced with dark peeks into the tragic lives of others, and yet the band still likes to keep things upbeat. Kevin's drumming is laced with youthful exuberance, Scott's half-menacing, half-goofy strutting and posturing dominates his side of the stage, and Jon's often painful-looking writhing and shaking rounds out the happy aggression. As for Anan… well… we love Anan.

In short, Drifter likes to rock hard. But they also don't mind rocking soft. Hell, Drifter just likes it when they get to rock, period. And no one besides Harry Belafonte will probably ever see anything wrong with that.