The Bambir is not a band.
It is a way of being and a mode of understanding: a lifestyle of all-encompassing, all-inspiring musical creation, limited neither to the studio nor to the rehearsal space, but alive in every breath. Born of a school of music in itself in Gyumri, Armenia, flavored by classic rock, vibrations in stones, Taoism, James Joyce, Rumi, acrobatic tongue twisters and fingerpickings at 3AM when the beer, the tea and the cigarettes have all run out and someone forgot to pay the electricity bill. The name comes from an ancient Armenian instrument all but forgotten by most, it describes the troubadours that travelled and used it. “Bamb” also means loud- say it as “bambir” and it is a command: “Be Loud!” Then again, if you were to ask any member of the band what it means, you’ll get a different answer from each of them.

Narek Lee Bars (song-writer, guitar, vocals), Arman Kocharyan (bass guitar, vocals), Arik Grigoryan (song-writer, flutes and woodwinds, guitar, vocals, percussion) and Vardan “Primus” Paremuzyan (drums, percussion, vocals) have gathered their childhood appreciation for hard rock and smuggled vinyls, poetry, pulsing beats and whirling trances and pumped it into their own unique sound. “An artist's job is to search”, Narek says, basing his lyrics in metamorphosis and the imitation of reality or your imperfect idea of it.

FACTS- The Bambir was named the best rock band in Armenia two years in a row. They placed third in the inaugural EuroVoice competition in Athens in 2010. They rocked 5 gigs on 3 stages of Ireland's largest festival, Electric Picnic '12. The band has played shows in Ireland, Georgia, Poland, Russia, Turkey, Iran, USA, France etc. When they are not in the studio, they record in their apartment. They record outside in nature. They call each other in the middle of the night to work on harmonies. They produce their own videos. They draw and they write poems on the refrigerator.

They played in France at concerts, in jam sessions and in music shops, having to practice while abroad without all their equipment. They played acoustic on a balcony in Beirut to thank their neighborhood for their hospitality.

Upon meeting the band, you might feel like there is something wrong with them in all the right ways. They never sit still. If there is a guitar in the vicinity, it's being played. They are boys who make noise.
In rehearsals, everyone faces each other with few words exchanged. Sit on the floor so you feel the vibrations. Take off your shoes so you can feel your bass. Play together until it becomes second nature. Riff until you find the madness. They play in a trance, whirling and tumbling like dervishes, rocking and swaying like boys at rapturous lessons. Their music comes from this animal place that doesn't listen to reason.

Their live shows are manic and yet grounded. Improvised and yet perfectly calculated. You are aware that you are witness to something mysterious, something rare, something that seems absurd to try to put into words.

The Bambir is on a mission to catch the benchmark and destroy it, they're on a voyage to take a meat cleaver to everything you thought you knew about live music. They're returning to that ancient art of the traveling minstrel. And they're coming for you.