Imagine 100,000 drummers taking a break from a wank to practice drums in the basement of their parents' house. Everybody hates a drummer. Drummers all feel it. But drummers seem to love each other. Nobody knows why - or nobody bothers to ask them. Man Forever decided to sally forth to unknown climes - be it a moon landing - in the lunar module or orbiting in the command module- who the F cares. Kid Millions wrote and recorded a piece in February of 2010 with a little help from his friends. Then he got the stupidest idea in the world: play this stuff live; take this shit on tour. He was bewildered by the enthusiasm of his admired compatriots. The drummers all came from the country without borders - the land of the helpless rats crawling around desperately in search of a scrap of PASSION, INNOVATION, ROCK, ENERGY, ACTION. They found it themselves. People don't "found" movements for nothing anyway. They found themselves and decided to create this twisted gnarled mass of a cataract to play live. Cut to Bloomington: the heart of the rock science movement and the home of the patrons of this project. Those wise men and women hosted the performance you now hold in your hands. Man Forever was just arriving in the lunar orbit. The module's detached and descending to the surface. Some of them are out of contact with mission control. The rats are scurrying everywhere now. It's time to get your head right.