We are all children of nascar drivers. Growing up in the pit and sneaking whiskey behind the motorhomes there could be no better idea than projecting that upbringing through song and spit. Our music is fast, sexy and loud. Just like the cars and competition that we are so fond of our beats perspire sexuality. Up front Damion forces his guitar to emulate the mangled crunch that is the sound of a 3 car, last lap, pile up with vocals that are nothing less than 10000 bystanders screaming in synchronized blood-lust fury. Nico drives the bass with the thunder that can only be compared to the 4 barrels of fully opened nascar power sucking down fuel with an unquenchable thirst. The dynamic, rhythmic pulse of Kelly beating her drums will make you neck sore from her booming cannonade as if watching car after car roar past in deafening fuel expelled heat. Be prepared to move your ass ladies and gentlemen.

The Dizzys Friends

Clean Clean

Clean Clean

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