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The name itself is a manifesto. Havana evokes a specific nostalgia—a pre-revolutionary romance, the smell of cigar smoke and salt air, the rhythm of son cubano leaking out of decaying colonial balconies. Bleu (French for blue) adds a layer of cool, melancholic sophistication. It is the color of a midnight sky over the Mojave, or the glow of a tube amplifier in a dark recording booth.