Back in the 1960s, when The Doors were asked what kind of music they played, they famously shrugged off the question. It was music, they said. Why put it in a box?

Few bands escape the inevitable question of genre. Botticelli Baby certainly doesn’t. But anyone who has seen them live will know that the answer hardly matters.

Six musicians step onto the stage. An hour later, they leave it exhausted, exhilarated, and often wondering what exactly just happened.

A collective gasp hangs in the room.

Those who love music will find musicians. Those who want to dance will dance. Those who need a laugh will laugh. Those who arrive carrying sadness may leave comforted—or transformed.

“Lovely ends winter,
lovely starts spring,
lovely ends love,
lovely starts hate,
lovely ends universe,
lovely starts soul”

Over the years, lovers have met at Botticelli Baby shows. New bands have been born. Records have changed hands. Vans have broken down. Hotel pools have been tested. Countless stages have been touched by that strange and elusive spark that only appears when everything suddenly clicks.

Now Botticelli Baby sets out once more.

Shaking off the dust, climbing out of hibernation and comfort, the band rises from the warm bath of the past few years and heads back into the heat.

Back to the crowds. Back to the noise. Back to the beautiful chaos.