Hummingbird is a bunch of guys that make great music here in Prague. If you saw them sleeping on the trams, you'd think they were bums.?But that's exactly what they want you to think, it's all part of their 'master plan'. We caught up with them for some Q&A...

GASHAUS: So, who are you guys supposed to be, and what is up with that goofy-ass name?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hmmm... wow. The first question and already rendered speechless. Umm... what is there to say?

GASHAUS: Are you guys like the next big best band of the world or what?

HUMMINGBIRD: How did you know?

GASHAUS: Really? Isn't that what Oasis said a few years back?

HUMMINGBIRD: Oasis?

GASHAUS: Right. What's with the name?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hummingbird?

GASHAUS: Couldn't you've come up with something better? Something now-er?

HUMMINGBIRD: It came up with us.

GASHAUS: "It"?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hummingbird. The Messenger of Truth.

?

GASHAUS: What the f*ck?

HUMMINGBIRD: Okay, okay, well you see Spider wove the Truth and Raven tried to eat It but couldn't swallow It and coughed It up and It fell into a flower but nobody could figure out which one. So Spider takes Raven's voice and gives it to Hummingbird, and in return Hummingbird has to find the Truth... But Coyote, ya see, well, he gets this idea ...

GASHAUS: Alright, alright, alright, we get the picture. So who do you sound like?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hopefully, we sound like ourselves.

GASHAUS: What about influences?

HUMMINGBIRD: The Influences? Yeah, they kick ass. Wait! What influences?

GASHAUS: Who do you like?

HUMMINGBIRD: Everybody. You know Everybody? Everybody's the bomb!

GASHAUS: Hey, that's quick. So, hotshot, why should anyone come and see you guys?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hmmm... Pity maybe? I don't know. Because, we f*ckin' rock man. Yeaaaaah! Jesus, I don't know. What am I supposed to say to that?

GASHAUS: What's your point? What are you doing?

HUMMINGBIRD: Hummingbird is an accumulation of dynamic vibration in perpetual agitation by The Great Force That Be, at it's best a channel, open and free.

GASHAUS: And at your worst?

HUMMINGBIRD: Four sorry desperate turds jacking off on a stage under a light?

GASHAUS: Word. Where you playin' next?

HUMMINGBIRD: Batalion. Around eight or nine. You can't express in words what is only understood, by virtue of it's very nature, through the medium of it's origin... the music itself.