Worst Band in the Universeby Graeme Base
Castigated for defying tradition and playing an original tune on his Splingtwanger, 13-year-old Sprocc leaves Planet Bipp in search of musical freedom and enters the annual Worst Band in the Universe Competition. Includes a CD of songs performed by the bands in the story. Full color.
- Abrams, Harry N., Inc.
- Publication date:
- Product dimensions:
- 11.02(w) x 10.92(h) x 0.47(d)
- Age Range:
- 8 - 11 Years
Read an Excerpt
It was dusk at the Temple of Tunes. The entire Blippian Tribe was gathered for the Blessing of the Splingtwangers, in the presence of the Eldest One, her Council and the Musical Inquisitor...
On Planet Blipp, beyond the stars, beyond the sun and moon, The world was ruled by music - but tradition called the tune. The Ancient Songs of ages past were all that could be heard, And no one was allowed to change a single note or word.
To write a tune was heresy, to play it even worse, And anyone who improvised was scowled upon and cursed. For years untold the Temple walls had rung to songs of yore Until the day a brave young groob named Sprocc rewrote the score.
Sprocc wasn't strong, or worldly-wise, just thirteen standard years, But in his heart there surged a tune that conquered all his fears. He took his trusty Splingtwanger, and though he knew 'twas wrong, He cranked the volume up to ten and played a Brand New Song.
The Musical Inquisitor was grobulous with rage. "It's Banishment for you!" he snarled. "Remove him from the stage!" A squad of ProdMen scuttled up and grabbed Sprocc by the scruff, But as they made to drag him off a voice rang out, "Enough!"
The Eldest of the Eldest Ones, the Wisest of the Wise, Rose slowly to her feet and studied Sprocc with ancient eyes. "This lad is not a criminal," she finally declared. "His heart is true - just out of tune. I say he shall be spared."
The crowd was in an uproar. The Inquisitor saw red. But judgment had been given; there was no more to be said. The Inquisitor was brought to heel - a sharp humiliation. Repressive Tyrants: yet to score. Round One to Innovation!
When everyone had gone, the Eldest One took Sproccaside. "My son, you have a special gift, but one that you must hide. Our world is not yet ready for the songs you wish to sing, Be patient, Sprocc, for comes the day your music will take wing."
A sudden pang of sadness seemed to cut her to the core. "Another young and restless soul has trod this path before: A boy named Skat - he had the gift - a youngster just like you. If only he had waited . . . There was nothing I could do...
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