CHAPTER ONE

Once upon a tyme, in the faire town of Laymahr, lived two young lads called Jamie and Andy who lived in a glen of solitude and jam sessions, never venturing beyond the rolling hills and stillness of Laymahr, content that they had the best hair in the land. And serene in this knowledge they remained, until they one day they heard of a chap from the neighbouring borough of the states. This lad was called Zachary and in addition to having distinctive hair, he also had a way with the words. Zachary was so taken with Jamie and Andy (and their hair) that he moved to Laymahr so that they may practise their craft together, forever. (He certainly did not move there for the night life.)

As the minstrels began to travel about, putting their words to music in front of the local peasants, they realised that something was missing. And so they cast out a call to arms, a call for a percussionist. The call was answered by a drum banger in the far off and distant land of Hahwhyee. An unnaturally tall manchild called Dane had heard word of the great feats and talents of the minstrels from Laymahr. He was an eager lad, eager to make noise for the townspeople of South Cahrolynah and eager to improve his hair. But before he ventured east, towards the sun and humidity, he had a suggestion.

“Gents! Please take some of your precious time away from Mortal Kombat and lend an ear to my best mate, JJ. He is a wizard with stringed instruments!”

The boys were moved by his plea, and his promising hair, so they used the power of the social networking equivalent of a carrier pigeon/stagecoach express called YouTube to watch moving pictures of the fairhaired JJ. They were so taken with both his musical stylings and hair that they invited both Dane and JJ to move to their towne and join the troop.

And thus begins our tale, the story behind the band. The story of how they grew to fame and glory and even better hair than before.