Schrödinger's Other Cat
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Schrödinger's Other Cat


Band Alternative Jazz


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"...Or is it" E.P. (8/10)

"The Answer to Life" (coming June 2011)



The devil had had enough. After countless years of watching the number of souls entering his domain dwindle, he realized what was happening. It wasn’t that people were becoming nicer so that more of them went to heaven; no, that was a foolish thought. It was all in the music. The music industry that the devil himself created was sapping all of the delicious soul essence out of people before they even had a chance to get to hell, leaving him with useless husks with little trace of soul. However, he knew exactly what had to be done.

He took to his human form and waited at the crossroads where he made all of his deals. It was here that he knew a special soul was coming to meet him, a dark one that might be the solution to all of his problems. He looked to the east where he knew the soul would come from, and saw a figure start to materialize out of the fog. It was a girl with a contrabass two times the size of her, strapped to her back, and alongside her walked a black cat. He touched the brim of his hat as she approached.

“Are you..?” she said almost stammering, her eyes darting around everywhere but at his face. The devil grinned.

“Yes. And you are Alice, correct? I understand that you’ve come to do business with me.”

“I want to trade my soul so that I can play this,” she said as she took off her bass and placed it on the ground beside her. The devil cocked his eyebrow.

“You carry that thing around without even knowing how to play it? Why not try a smaller instrument; I’m not sure a little girl such as yourself could handle that.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed into a glare as she bent down to take the bass out of the case. Without saying a word she started plucking away at the strings as her left hand shot up and down the neck with ease. The devil knew this was it.

“It seems to me you are already proficient with the instrument,” the devil said. He already knew what she really wanted, and he intended to make it coincide with his mission.

“Do you desire perfection?”

Alice looked at his face for the first time, her brow still furrowed.

“No. I just want to be able to play it so that people will listen. No one listens anymore; they’re too busy trying to sing along to the stupid shit on the radio.”

The devil flashed a grin again. With the addition of her bass, he would have the perfect band. He offered her a deal: she would trade her soul and he would let her tap into her dark energy. With this ability he knew she would soon catch the eyes and ears of Mr. Jones, a guitarist who traded his soul for the fingers and charisma of a demon, and a drummer known as M, whose cockiness caused him to duel the devil and subsequently lose his ability to play music. The guitarist would no doubt be drawn to the girl’s dark sound, and the drummer would be given back his talent only if he agreed to play the devil’s music with them. She accepted of course, and in due time she would meet the guitarist, and he would send the drummer her way. It was the devil’s band, and his music, and he fully intended to get back his souls. It was only a matter of time.