Magnus Moriarty tm
Moriarty™ rides his old German violin towards the outer
spheres of the Northern sky. By his side, the ancient
bouzouki strummer Ergo, humming and whistling his way
through the galaxies. The Hawk, left in the corner, sad
and abandoned, but 11 strings left. Organs and Jupiter
fighter decks fold their hands. Tape recorders and old
school sky-fi equipment buzz in pleasure under the gentle
touch of them pilot fingers. Outside no summer. Outside
all cold and dark. Theremin pleasures and ohs and ahs. Wait!
We are picking up something on the radar. What can it be? It´s approaching rapidly! Hold on! It´s crashing into Denver now! There is nothing we can do. Alas!............... (silence)........... Ergo, what is that sound? Ergo...? Oh, them coffee nerves... Ergo, check that creepy space echo, will you?