Unsigned Entertainment

Sinister Trailerpark Magic is a band formed by unconventional means. It was in 1972 that the initial seeds were sewn, when a respected soothsayer of southern Guelph, prophesized that an unusual band would one day be formed and that they would not suck as other music does. Their unusual onymous will be "Sinister Trailerpark Magic". The curious onlookers asked this soothsayer 'when they might expect this band,' to which she replied; "When music is at an all time low, which will be marked by two things: The rise of other evil artists named "Coldplay" and also "Fergie" AKA Fergalicious. Everyone assumed this was pure gibberish and thought nothing of it. Fortunately, at this particular "soothsaying" was a Wizard who wise in council, and he told the soothsayer that she should hire four horsemen for him to prepare for the coming of these great musicians. She obliged after he got her a monthly spot on "Geraldo" and the plan was set in motion. The four riders who were men of great prowess and lineage were let loose into the world with a quest to find instruments fit for the unrelenting musicians of good, so that they might thwart the fabled "Coldplay and Fergalicious tag team of taste genocide." These great men came back ten years later with the most prized instruments in all the land. These insruments, guarded though they were, were stolen by Pirates during the late eighties and spawned the evil "Red Hot Chilly Peppers." These Pirates, (known as the "Pegs N' Patches) after seeing what they had done, and the evil they had spawned, quickly returned the instruments with much grief and penetence. But the evil had been done, such was the power of great instruments in the wrong hands. The four horsemen set out again years later when, despite the resistance by anyone with any taste, or knowledge of things like the alphabet,  the coming of the awful and simple Coldplay came to frution, as was expected. They had little time before the Dutchess would cast off her christian shackles and "black eyed pea" bandmates for shirts that exposed her midriff. The wizard divined the musicians fabled musicians identities using torn silk, motor oil, and one old street sign, which was the way you found that sort of thing. They first found Pancake Porterhouse in a small cafe in Guelph, and knew he must be the lead guitarist because of his ego-maniacal hair, his track pants suit, and his overuse of cointerpoit and "piano fortissimo" in his everyday speech. Next they found the cumley Donna Jewel a soft spoken man, careful with words. They knew then that he must be the rhythm guitarist and also the ever important band mechanic. Next, in a small abandoned warehouse they found Rhythmatic Fever doing chin-ups with a baby held tightly between his knees. They knew from his inability to pay bills and his love for running shoes worn with short pants (schpantz) that he must be the drummer. Last, they found Doubleback in a small downtown Hamilton Lab. His cowboy shirts and semi-complete university degree screamed bassist. So it was done; the band was formed, and on this day the wizard met them and presented them each with an instrument fine as they had ever seen, and he called each by name. given unto Pancake was the hallowed "Wise Willow Axe" guitar of the Wise Old Willow of tenessee, which the tree used to play before his accursed blues phaze. (which eventually lead to his being chopped down) To  Donna, the Wizard gave the venerated "Black Axe," guitar of the deep black pits of Orangeville, Ontario. The guitar was black in colour. (if you were wondering) To Rhythmatic Fever the Wizard gave the stately drum Forxniur, because it was hard to say and he'd practiced all week. Sacrosanct was such a drum in craft.  Also he gave it to him because it had been owned by his father who had been killed at a Hall & Oates concert shortly after he was born. To Doubleback, he gave Slappstring, a bass guitar special in that it was used in the crusades as a bow, had slain many a man, and it is well known that murder improves a bass guitar's sound.

This being done the wizard gave them one last errand: to create an album unparalelled. The band then disappeared, which raised doubt among the throng of wellwishers already amassed under the sinister tailerpark magic wing of good taste and originality. The band cast off the shackles of modern life, and fled deep into a dark mountain crevice, and there, amongst the rock and nitrogen pits they forgot all musical convention, and with no hesitation, they began to write furiously. With such tempestuous creativity, the winds soon rose in the mountain crevice and as they began to rehearse, the earth shook, rocks tumbled and shattered mid-fall under the crushing power of their sound and the remnants sprinkled like dust and sparkled all around them. They were certainly charmed. The crevice at their arrival, had been but barren rock and shadow, but now with each day of their constant rehearsal, it became green and lush and again. The crevice became full of life that had been stripped so many years ago by the 80's retro revival of the late 90's. These were terrible days, but their terror was now dulled, so beautiful the crevice had become.

It was three months and a plethora of songs later when the secret signal let itself be known. The band arose one day to find a stone tablet etched by the hand of the wizard. It said:

Three songs for the avante-garde, with their tastes far and wide, Four for the punk rockers who refuse to die, three for the singers that their voices might ring pure, two for the tired that they might be lulled to sleep. One indescribable rock album for the many fortunate who may listen: One album to rule them all, one album to find them, one manufacturer to digitize and burn them, and one deal to distribute them to retailers everywhere.

When the metal flowers of the mountains crevice return to their former splendor then your work is complete.

XOXO, The Wizard AKA "Da Wizz"    

It was clear now what had to be done, they had to widdle down their massive repertoire with the sharp steel chisels of their minds, and once it was perfect, the fabled "metal flowers of crevices deep would be aroused from a thousand year slumber. They leaped at their daunting task and grabbed it by the horns as it struggled for months relentlessly. Soon the list of songs was reduced to twelve and the order arranged using the overly critical calls of the birds that now considered the mountain crevice home. On the one year anniversary of their coming to the crevice they played the album in its entirety for the first time. And when they arose the next morning, all around them bloomed the fabled metal flowers. So beautiful they were that all the aches and pains and turmoils of the last year melted away in their midst. The scope of time became simple to grasp. They knew that the year they had spent was but a blink to these flowers that had waited so patiently. The four, now brothers, reluctantly left the crevice, to return to the world they had fled from the year before. Fergie, as foretold, was the top artist the week of their return, and had the highest selling ringtone on the charts.  Though they had prepared for this since their inception into the band, no man or woman free of evil could truly take the horror that was "the dutchesses" music. It tore at the bands ear drums with ruthless malice so much so they were forced back into the undergound. It was on their travels through the forbidden city called "Toronto" that they realized how terrible the world had become in their absence. Fergie had penetrated all the cities in North America to their very core. Suddenly, Canada's national literacy rate plummeted to an all time low and then people began to vote for progressive conservatives, stupid as they were. The war on terror erupted, Gwen Stephanie, now in cahoots with Fergie became a dominant force in the music scene. Not coincidentally, highschool dropouts then increased ten fold, and the Kyoto protocol was thrown out the window. Sinister Trailerpark Magic knew it was time to put something to tape. They went deep into the city and found an analog studio, for the demons of high cymbal ring were far to prevolent in a digital studio. There they recorded their tracks in little time, with only their instruments and passion pushing them foreward. They left the studio with their self titled album in hand, the album that would rule them all.

It was several months later, quite close to the release of the album when a shocking truth was discovered. The wizard returned, now clad in white, and brought with him ill tidings. It would seem that the scriptures had been interpreted incorrectly and that one member had been selected in error.  Doubleback the doctor of smooth who was bassist admitted that he had not felt the calling as strong as the others and that with such a grave quest his half heart would spell doom for his dear band mates. With this he left, and moved to Barrie. The wizard then assembled the horsemen who set out on yet another quest. they searched for many months for the new bassist but were plagued by the evils that had captured the modern musician. Happy were all but few, to play simple music that was repetitive and boring and sounded like every other band on the planet. The now daunted horsemen, came to the brink of defeat. Their hearts were wearing at travelling so, and their horses hooves ached greatly and their steps were light and slow. It was all but lost, when tidings of a man whose exemplary bass riffage stirred some excitement in the commonfolk. It was told by many, to many more, that at a "jest of bass" throwdown two men, of great prowess and lineage faced eachother. Only one man left the grounds alive and those eyewitnesses say that the loser's guitar was torn asunder by the victor's riffage alone. Such a disgrace it was, that he the loser then hanged himself with a patch-cord. The riders sought out this man and found a one Traxyl Burn, lord of bass. He was immediately accepted by his new band mates who trusted the Wizard, and they rehearsed with a ferocity of a wild cat great in mane and claw. The horsemen, tired though they were, were sent on their last errand: to find an instrument fine enough for Traxyl Burn. It took them an astonishing fifteen minutes to find what they desired. A precision Bass, brown and gold in color, it was found deep in the guitar ridden walls of Long& McQuade and as a bonus could be purchased on consignment provided the customers credit was acceptable. The horsemen had excellent credit, as most horsemen do, and so it was done. Traxyl felt the fire of this instrument and weilded it as though it were attached to his very person. And so they played on... 

And so the prophecy was fulfilled, but the journey was just beginning.        

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