In the dimly lit corners of the indie universe, surrounded by shadowy melodies and fractured harmonies, an eclectic ensemble announces its resurrection. Emerging from an ominous two-year hiatus, Paul's Jets throw open the gate, extending an exclusive invitation into their familiar sonic realms. Beware: The Suitcase-Jets; Dandyish voyagers trapped at the end of history. Creating sounds like robot-lovers in the midst of nature, during some kind of apocalypse. Der Himmel blau / nach Feuer riecht / Und ich hab Angst vor dem Morgen ohne dich.