Indescribably dour Science Fiction author, Preston G Parallax, once found himself at a glittering event curated strictly for the unbelievably rich and influential. Quite how this flea-bitten specimen found his way into such a function is a mystery, but the borderline-committable Sci-Fi genius could not believe his usually rotten luck.
Looking through the eyepiece of his skull-castle to see it surrounded by keepers of treasure, his only opportunistic synapse ordered its electrical secretary on an urgent errand. Milliseconds later the secretary arrived in a dusty room full of long-forgotten and yellowing papers. The sign on its decaying door simply said ‘Ideas’. With no time to spare it grabbed as many sheets of as it could and headed straight to the mouth department of Preston’s brain. Having just consumed enough vodka to kill a small rodent, he headed straight for the richest and most influential person in the whole room.
Unfortunately for multi-billionaire retail mogul, Sir Richard Milton, that was him. Suddenly he was confronted with what appeared to a tramp dressed by a myopic Doctor Who wardrobe assistant – who was untimely sacked for making Colin Baker look ‘too eccentric’. Though he was amiable enough, the conversation took a discomforting turn when what appeared to be a pitch emerged from the oscillating hole in Preston’s face. Prophetic as ever, Preston had come up with a new idea for a chain of discount stores that predated Britain’s colonisation by rampant pound stores by several years.
The idea was simple. You had a shop that undercut all the other shops in town. Simple. But the real gimmick was that you made a real point of telling the customer how much money they were saving, so each item would be labelled with the original price and the discount price. The idea could have made Preston a millionaire several times over, had he just have given it it a different name. He scribbled down his design for the label on a serviette and handed it to Sir Richard. It looked like this.
(to be continued)
Click upon the Opal below marked Ben Butler and Mousepad, and ye shall find a back catalogue of progressive wonders – a research/development program illuminating the forbidden no mans land between opulentprog and squashedfunk virtuosities, a place into which brave moog warriors of the 1970s took a right of passage, never to come back alive. Soon cometh the BBMP debut album on LOAF recordings, but first there is the offerring of kaleidoscopic skew-pop hit ‘Infinite Capacity (for love)’ featuring the Niallist.
On the flipside lies their live finale favourite ‘Electric Bamber Boo’ – a melee at molecular level that describes a future piano rave, an analogue fiesta populated by helium inflated space hoppers that worship a new kind of bounce pop idol . ‘Electric Bamber Boo’ is the fanfare that prepares them for particle acceleration into a hyperspeed vortex, where we get to see the very joyous face of infinity himself.
The Infinite Capacity (for love) EP is coming soon on LOAF recordings.
They offer a 4-man Magma re-evaluation service of the most unspeakably epic proportions. In Servant Eye, crimson mellotron oozes under elysian doorways, to form an image of Christian Vander beating out a 16/9 rhythm on the transient skulls of long-defunct gods. Silently we watch, bathing in celestial voices eons old, waiting for the peerless crescendo that will take us into ominous new realms of reptilian beauty.
The thoroughly amazing Ga’an by Ga’an is out 25th Jan on Captcha records.