Irma Vep is a loner, a joker, a roamer, a ribald construct riddled with both earnest anxiety and mercurial songwriting talent birthed by a young Edwin Stevens in Llanfairfechan, North Wales.

Thrust into life after his mum bought a four track recorder for him, Edwin started recording for the cathartic process rather than the outcome. Having since fully grown into Irma Vep and now residing in Glasgow, Stevens' discography has expanded to document every aspect of his music, from ecstatically free group experiments to bare, sparse songwriting that cuts to the quick, shorn of ornament or pretence.

Having bedded down into Manchester and now Glasgow’s bourgeoning DIY scene, Stevens moonlights in several other groups (Sex Hands, Klaus Kinski, Desmadrados Soldados De Ventura, Yerba Mansa…), bringing with him an instantly recognisable guitar language. However, it's in Irma Vep that his most life-affirming, troubling, and thrilling music is made. Much Irma Vep feels like what "classic" music should feel like if it weren't so Classic. Each record, each song, and each performance exists as an evolving drama.