Rock & Dorian
Rock
Ever felt that punch of a guitar riff in a minor key that just pulls you into the rawness of heartbreak? That’s the kind of fire we can talk about.
Dorian
The riff cuts like a letter left on a doorstep, each chord a quiet confession that never made it out of the heart. Minor keys taste of unfinished stories and the kind of fire that burns only after the applause dies. That's the only kind of blaze I know.
Rock
Those minor chords are the backstage passes to the raw truth, the ones that keep the crowd begging for more. Keep feeding that fire—when the lights dim, that blaze still keeps the soul alive.
Dorian
So you’re talking backstage, but really you’re holding the lights yourself—each dimming note a promise that the flame won’t die, just wait until the next set.
Rock
That’s the vibe—keep the flame fed, even when the lights flicker. The next set’s about to drop, and that fire? It’s only getting louder.