The melodic alignment that is Stephen DiCicco (guitar/vocals), Kevin Schneider (bass) and Matt Kittner (drums), is a tale of cosmic proportions. A journey, so it seems, into the boundaries of a new music frontier; a journey that began like any other - in their skivvies. The air conditioner: broken. The day: sweltering hot. Two twelve-year-old kids on a mission to jam their way out of the heat. With tree branches for drumsticks and a sock for a drumbeater, Matt set the rhythm for a groovy guitar riff. Stephen jumped right on it, literally, dancing like a fool as he played a walking three-note lick on his Les Paul. Raucous as ever the two pounded away, oblivious to an angry older brother about to bull charge Stephen from behind. Though jam session severed with a blow to the spleen, a core ax to drum relationship was forged. After many years and short stints with various experimental bands (and real drumsticks) honing their craft, the two squeezed their creativity into the beta version of Reverie, labeled 'Anodyne' - a five-piece minor key alt-rock medication induced with heavy distortion and whip-angry vocals. It was here where the erratically tight man on the bass, Kevin Schneider, joined forces. And even though the band had a steady following, some members were a little anti-prolific and the dream faded in the light of personal deterrents. College would soon bear down and shoot the three in separate paths. Without the gravity of a common locale they were drifting further and further away into the vast openness of choice. Classes went on as the canvas of life was further speckled with paint. Practice time would fall from a rite and become a sobering privilege, with Matt taking the brunt of the separation; forced to leave his drum kit behind because of space, he would beat the hell out of his shoes with his sticks. It came in the form of a vision, an idle gaze into passion and opportunity. Stephen lifted the veil off from over the collegiate world and decided once and for all to fully invest himself in the music business. With his eyes set on L.A., he attempted to corral his lifelong friend and drummer, Matt, and the equally respected bassist, Kevin, to pack up a four-banger station wagon - a.k.a. 'the shaggin' wagon' - and hopefully inject themselves into the thriving music scene of the West coast. But Matt wasn't ready for the jump yet and opted to finish up his schooling first. Kevin and Stephen would have to venture the 2000-mile trek alone. They would settle in a relatively quiet, but artsy town right outside of L.A. called Huntington Beach. Inspiration was not an obstacle as new material spawned from several different apartment-recording sessions. Yet the digital drum machine that was filling in for Matt wasn't cutting it. And financing the studio time in order to lay down clean takes of all their hard work beat up their spirits a bit. Still, all the desolation attributed to being two small stars in a sky of derivative bliss spawned a revelation: mission L.A. would be abandoned. The two ricocheted back to Chicago with a tape full of songs and a beat to recover. They phoned their old drum-man on the way, his head buried in a book, convinced him that music was more important than the university and pulled together in June of 2003 as the unified rock triangle, Reverie. Reverie is a conscious trance, a throbbing delusion. Serving to smack you starry-eyed. Punch-driving poetically lucid tales of optimistic despair, they're a wickedly fresh trio weaving the dissonance of human emotion into gear shifting rock and roll purity.