Sometimes one, sometimes three or maybe four people fall into the lair of the Marlboro Chorus. Their wives and girlfriends don't see them for weeks. Besides beer cans, coffee cups, and cigarette butts, occasionally a song or two will exit. Cool sounds off warm tape, salt sweat stains on the reels, hot tubes and inspiration mix and mingle in the lair. If Ray Davies or David Bowie ever found out, they'd smile and wink. They know what's got into these boys. A recording collective from the banks of the Mississippi, The Marlboro Chorus has an eye on the present, with a wink at the past.
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