Hotblack Desiato

Old

Hotblack Desiato was getting too old for this. Still young at heart. But too old. He was getting worn down by what he liked to describe as the constant grind of album tour album tour. Record a new album. Go out on tour to promote it. Spend the evenings on stage, the nights partying in some hotel room or other, the days sleeping it off in the tour bus, and the time in between writing songs for the next album. Then spend weeks in some cheap studio knocking up demos, months in a way more exotic studio laying down recordings, then back out on tour. Yes, the constant grind of album tour album tour, that was the only way to describe it. A galactic tour could last all year. Which might not be so bad if it were a year on some planet with a tight solar orbit that whizzed round a star in no time. But nowadays Disaster Area tours were lasting the length of a year on one of those tedious far-orbit planets that trundle round their sun with all the urgency of an Arcturan mega sloth.

And so it was that as the albums got louder, the gig schedule became more gruelling, and the time spent away from home got longer. One night, during a particularly outrageous post-gig party, Hotblack had hooked-up with Wildwind Salvicarr, lead singer of the Voltage Vixens, who were the support band on the Western Spiral arm section of their galactic tour. Wildwind, it turned out, had only got into the rock music business to meet guys, and, now she had met Hotblack, was quite ready to quit the scene, settle down and raise a family. By the time the second baby Desiato was on the way, Hotblack and Wildwind decided to move away from the Gagrakacka Mind Zones. How about Xannet on the Outer Eastern rim? Relaxed, yes, but too populated. The Deavvon system on the South Western ripple? Picturesque, yes, but too remote. Hotblack remembered a place where Disaster Area had gigged once. A rock in the middle of nowhere. Go live on a moon, he thought. A distant, isolated moon. A home to beat all homes.

Next day in the back of the Disaster Area tour bus, Hotblack the burnt out musician ditched the song he was working on. Decided it was time to pack it all in, for a while at least. Heads were going to stop nodding. Ears were going to stop bleeding.