Gnashers are the unhappy product of a time-travel disaster. Back in 2069 they were a band gaining momentum. Their recent single ‘Karashnico’ was getting airplay on the Achip1493, the fastest implant to date. Fame was surely destined after the DNA prints they signed for Sigmund Bohx the Duke of signal noise.
Indeed they were selected for their nostalgic, simplistic rock sounds harping the present hipsters back to the dark days at the dawn of the century when humankind devoured wattage like omnipills. To think that we would play guitars through archaic amplifiers, housing ‘tubes’ glowing red with fury, no doubt for what would inevitably become of them.
As fame took its toll on these four youngsters, the taste of reaching their dream as elevated-social-adhesion group civilians, became too much to wait for and they stumbled across a device they were told would take them straight to their hearts’ desires.
Imagine their dismay when they awoke in a clouded grey dystopian past in the heart of the dear green city. Maybe they’d write songs to change the course of history and be heralded for their efforts. Maybe they’d just write songs to escape from the reality of their inescapable predicament drowning out the noise circulating in their minds, echoes of what could have been.