Coffee break. The bakery’s just closed. Seventeen degrees outside. Inside multiple silence. A whispering tune mending ingredients. Time slows down. Band on the run. Composing. Portraying verve. Remembering January. Trying to forget October. When Genevau left for Dhaka. Christmas comes alone. Ten years after one rainy day in some awkward apartment in Oslo they are ready to conquer the radio wave. This time. Pop. Women come, women go. Songs remain. And it all starts with that sound.