It is a true honour to introduce to you our newest writer today.
You may never have heard of Preston G. Parallax, but he is something of a legend around 20JFG parts – an unbelievable Science Fiction writer and pioneer in the field of Pseudo-musicology, he simply vanished from the face of the earth after his second book ‘Apocalypse in C Minor’ sold only 54 copies (and was also banned in 36 countries). Today, copies of ‘Apocalypse’ change hands on the black market version of eBay (Bbay) for upwards of £200, and his name is both scorned and revered in Sci-Fi circles (amongst those who have actually heard of him).
We tracked PGP down to the small tourist village of Berlin in Germany, where he had been living in reclusion from the general public (and a mammoth tax bill) for the best part of 20 years. Over the last few years things had gone from bad to worse for him – after there was no answer at his apartment, he was eventually found in the street, shouting indecipherable alien conspiracies at cars, he had to be forcibly removed and sedated in order to get him back to his house. It was an ugly scene, but after a hot bath and a nice cup of tea Preston was open for business again – and so we feel it is not only our desire, but our duty to help him re-launch his career.
First step to help boost his profile – an entry into New Scientist’s Flash Fiction competition – only 350 words, nothing too taxing. But he claimed he was still ‘too weak’ to write anything yet, and suggested we go take something from his short stories collection in his attic instead.
What we found was a number entitled ‘Endorphins into the Future’, a chilling vision of a future-that-never-was, which he claims to have written in 1978. But even though his future never came to pass, some of his predictions are so deadly accurate it’s hard to believe that it’s 32 years old (the title seems awfully familiar too). Anyway, story still needs editing down and PGP’s atrocious spelling needs some rigorous proofing – but we will be bringing you a world exclusive premier of his work next week….
As you can imagine, Discosmic Dancer is Anti-matter Disco of the upmost quality (and scarcity). The title track laid here before you is a musical Parallax effect, propelled through time by a oscillating flux device capable of speeds so great, that at points it seems this cadant vessel is flying backwards. Discosmic Dancer patrols the same astral locale of the Black Devil and the Massierra but exhibits a unique design of its own – reminiscent of a more library or soundtrack feel that, which when placed on the contemporary personal listening device, will turn even a trip to the shops into a transversive voyage of astronomical proportions.
Discosmic Dance goes for €150 a copy. Lucky for us that it just got reissued.
Johan Timman was the production project of Johan Timman. A Dutchman armed with a collection of synthesizers that made JM Jarre look like a hobbyist – who, like our very own Mr. Parallax seems to have been banished to obscurity by the merciless overlords of fashion, taste and commercial success. He only made one album, ‘Trip into the Body’ and according to discogs anyone who has heard said album ranks it up there with Kraftwerk……
We have to agree. The whole of ‘Trip into the Body’ is a heavy-duty almanac of lost synth-jam classics marred only by its occasional dalliance with certain melodic ideas that could be described as ‘cheesy’ (by todays standards, at least). This is presumably because the album was intended for children who didn’t want to be completely traumatised by the idea that the full scale war depicted in ‘The Blood Cells and the Antibodies’ was happening inside them. In fact, we are still a little bit unsettled by the ominous nature of bodily functions evoked by this inauspicious piece of biological funk. If it wasn’t for that most affable of Antibodian Moog-riffs to reassure us, we would right now be sending in the dude from Innerspace to sort it out.
Trip into the Body goes for €6 a copy. So it goes. Apologies for the mp3 clippage, but really you should pick up from Discogs to hear in its entirity.