This is the rock and roll future of yesteryear that never was - and nobody wanted.
It is an intergalactic age of cowboys, outlaws and bandits playing on an interstellar stage. It is a time of hyper-capitalism and a cut-throat gig economy. Unreliable trash-heaps carry scrappy underdogs to their next gig, and corporation freighters lumber across the horizon laden with an empire's bounty.
These are the music-fuelled, moon-age daydreams of a rebel space age.
These are your Orbital Blues.
