It's useless to fight it! The history of rock and roll is laced with a myriad of inevitabilities, from the senseless death of The Big Bopper so that Waylon Jennings might live on through to the (years-late) demise of Oasis. Each it's own tragedy, each with it's own moral. But were we able to take a hand, how would the pasts play out, and indeed would we have altered the future in which we so smugly sit today?

Back in 1988, the rock and roll victors were those who walked it like they rocked it. Or at least those who showed up at the club to ensure that all present had a living, breathing show to watch and listen to...for in these days prior to the launching of the internet, people were much dependent on the corporeal pleasures of First Life as it has been practiced for thousands of years on our planet. This did not please Royal Trux. They'd seen the future (it looked like a Sci-Fi paperback from '72), taken the phone off the hook and turned the volume on the TV down to 1. The songs that became Twin Infinitives were beaming through them transmission-style (with the dial slightly de-tuned); any attempt to recreate that alchemy in front of the public seemed a horrible drag. Neil and Jennifer were in the information business, generating content, selling ideas. Wouldn't it be easier to simply recruit some beautiful losers to take the arrangements and perform them in public, to the best of their abilities? Who would be the wiser?

And lo! This brings us to today, to the borough called Brooklyn. Over the bridge and downtown, Royal Trux was born back in the 1980s. From the start, their aim was domination - and for this, they needed bodies. They wanted an army...to execute their plans, they would have preferred androids - but in the end, they settled for a human crew. This was Royal Trux - but what if, just what if, the blueprints had been left in a cab, with the mission statement clearly marked for anyone to read? Would then the work that is Twin Infinitives have ever come to the public's ear in the same way, radicalizing the concept of "beats" and creating a style that would eventually embody the sound of gold records and packed stadiums for the next in line? Isn't the sound of Twin Infinitives that which they call "downtempo" these days? And what of "dub step"? If Royal Trux had been infiltrated and had their front-end operated by doppelgangers, would Merriweather Post Pavillion still be just be a place you saw the Dead in '86? There's only one way to know the answers to these vexing queries - the truth can only be found at Brooklyn's own Saint Vitus on December 8th, when "Royal Trux" peform Twin Infinitives, reading from pages that may never actually have existed at the time of the original band. Bring a box with a pin-hole in it, don't look at the stage directly - what you see there may well rewrite the entire history of rock and roll!