In an increasingly stark music scene in a small town in Southwestern Virginia, things take a turn for the better as a bedraggled Friends Of Fiends crawls from the mountains. With a sound best described as rowdy and unkempt, an aroma as intense as their live performances, and enough facial and body hair to make even the most seasoned woodsmen glare, Friends Of Fiends is stirring. With sweat being the single largest contributor, the soon to be released "We're All" EP is only the thunder high in the hills, indicative of the obstreperous storm to come