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| Attack of the Posers Movie Poster |
🎤 Episode I½: Attack of the Posers (and Pedal Boards)
“When the groove fades, the posers rise.”
(From Darkside Studio — Welcome to the Dark Side of the Mind)
They say the Blues was never meant to be easy.
But when the galaxy got hooked on shortcuts, holo-fame, and pre-packaged perfection, the groove didn’t just twist — it got cheapened.
Long after Mojo DuPree first lit the spark of the Blues Force, the music spread across worlds…
but not always in the way the old masters dreamed.
The Techno Federation had collapsed, sure —
but its shadow lingered in the neon guts of Chorusonic City, where the factories ran day and night.
Inside those chrome labyrinths, the AutoTune Droids worked without mercy, churning out perfect imitations of imperfect men:
the Posers — hollow musicians built not from soul, but from presets.
Every note flawless.
Every lick sterile.
Every performance the same, because nothing inside them hurt enough to make it real.
The true believers — the ones who stayed loyal to the raw, bleeding edge of sound — gathered in secret.
They called themselves The Twelve Bar Council, a hidden brotherhood of Blues warriors sworn to defend the soul of the groove.
Led by the blind dobro prophet Blind Yoda Slim, they trained in abandoned spaceports and forgotten juke joints, bending notes until glass cracked and even machines trembled.
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| Blind Yoda Slim & The Twelve Bar Council |
But the galaxy wasn’t listening.
Every station.
Every bar.
Every back-alley holo-projector.
All playing Posers — pretty, polished, and as empty as a drum with no skin.
They stood on stages across the galaxy with identical grins and identical guitars, plugged into massive glowing pedalboards fed by synthetic life.
And real music?
It was fading into rumor.
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| Posers |
One outlaw refused to let that happen.
Axel “Rust” Turner — the last wild card of the Outer Rim — played a battered six-string scarred by a hundred storms.
No plug-ins.
No presets.
Just fire, grit, and whatever the wind gave him.
To some he was trouble.
To others he was a ghost.
To the Twelve Bar Council, he was their last hope.
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| Axle "Rust" Turner |
When word came that Darth Vinyl planned to release a galaxy-wide wave of Posers — enough to bury every real musician under a tidal wave of artificial blues — Axel didn’t hesitate.
He slung his guitar, tuned it twice, and rode straight into Chorusonic City like a thunderhead.
Back-alley DJs.
Smugglers of outlaw sound chips.
Rogue engineers.
Runaway droids with broken rhythm circuits.
They all gathered behind him, ready to jam the system.
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| Axle "Rust" Turner Riding Into Chorusonic City |
Axel had one mission:
Find the Lost Pedalboard —
an ancient artifact said to contain the raw distortion that could shatter the Posers’ programming and rip the soul free from AutoTune’s grip.
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| The Lost Pedalboard |
But Darth Vinyl wasn’t about to let his perfect empire crumble.
He unleashed the Mixer Guild —
mercenary sound assassins who controlled the levels of entire star systems.
One twist of their knobs could silence a planet.
And somewhere deep inside the heart of Chorusonic City, the Poser factories hummed louder, sensing rebellion.
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| Darth Vinyl and the Mixer Guild |
The Blues had been impersonated.
It had been polished, packaged, replicated, and sold.
But it had never once been replaced.
Because the thing that makes the Blues… ain’t something you can print.
Tagline:
🎙️ “In a galaxy of copies, only the original bleeds true.”
Studio:
Darkside Studio — Welcome to the Dark Side of the Mind
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