Tim Fite was one of the small number of babies born between 1975 and 1983 without any blood. Although seemingly healthy, his veins were as dry as his bones. Most of the other babies with this condition were immediately quarantined, and later dissected by leading scientists to determine the cause of such an anomaly (generally to no avail and in extreme secrecy). Tim Fite, however, survived the pokings and proddings of multiple rounds of clandestine-testing, and was eventually hooked up to a machine. The machine that gave him his blood.

Since then, Tim Fite has recorded a few different albums, under various aliases, in a multiplicity of genres. His most recent effort is "Gone Ain't Gone," a darkly whimsical inspection of theft as a vehicle for cultural-evolution.

A firm believer in sociopathos, Tim Fite walks the line between justifiable piracy and irrational radicalism; this narrow path affords him a grand view of the pithecanthropine landscape, enabling him to chart the topography of humanistic progression and regression with blinding musical/moral accuracy. Because of this, Tim Fite must plead "not guilty" to being innocent, and in doing so perjure himself for the sake of one day being truly free.

Renound homemaker Constance O'Reily once said, "There's no justice like criminal justice," and in this world of gross misunderstanding, there is no heart better suited to hold her words dear than the bloodless heart of Tim Fite.