The tale of Press Start to Rock is long and riddled with suspense, drama, romance, action, adventure, comedy, sadness, romantic misunderstandings, self-realizations, depression, heartbreak, hate, joy, laughter, sorrow, melancholy, and danger! There is no true way to retell this tale. As the narrator one must do their best to spin the yarn right without exaggeration blended in.
Our first scene begins in a dark cave somewhere near the center of the earth. In stark shadow and cold sweat an idea was born...
"Hey Pat," the voice spoke. A man known to very few as Nick and thought to be myth until these recorded words, "we should learn to play some video game music." The question drifted into the air and along the wind. It would burn the ears, as Nick was known for only speaking the truest words and wasting no more speech than was necessary.
The response, at first, was a simple groan of ache. The once legendary Pat Corwin had fallen into near obscurity in recent times. With his throat so sore from screaming his rage to gods who remained deaf it was no surprise that when words did come they sounded near absent in the air, but their confirmation would hold the meaning and strength of a million voices in chorus, "Yeah. I agree with you Nick."
AND SO IT BEGAN! Two great beings circling in orbit of each other had come crashing together in an explosion of face melting leads and head throbbing riffs. With the tomes and tools all laid out before them they conquered song after song. Nick and Pat, names not easily spoke without a moment of silence directly to follow, were indeed a great duo of guitar slayers. Had they been left to themselves, well, that alone would have been an epochal event so drastic in the history of civilization that perhaps students in a future, centuries away, would simply see it as a meteor striking the earth; unable to believe that such a schism in the world would be caused by two mortal men. But lo, there were others to come.
The next hero of this story was the beast that lived nearby. With two eyes, two hands, and one ear there could be but one explanation, only fate, that directed those sweet sounds of classic video game music to Steve that evening. A loud creature, the growl from his maw could only be matched by a growl in his stomach. A hunger. A craving to hammer out a deep, melodic strength to compliment that metal shred. This feast would be for his fingers in the form of a bass guitar. The half-giant bowed his head when he appeared to the others, and in words not so cordially heard from him again he asked, "Can... can I play with you guys?"
The answer was, "Yes!" Not just a simple approval of his ability and acknowledgment of the need for him, but an agreement of two men that the third would enhance their journey toward completing something none of them could completely understand.
... but there was still something, or someone, missing.
In Steve's travels and watering holes he came upon a companion, Kevin Glasel. They had discussed worldly matters, as well as otherworldly, and had found a kinship. This compatriot would hear of events of joy and of sorrow, of success and of failure. Most notably was the quest of three to become four. Nick, Pat, and Steve had all spent so much of their souls only to hit failure at finding that one piece they now knew to be missing. A final addition to complete the men and their music. The good man was apprehensive when he offered to test his power, presence, and percussion against the melodic fury of the trio. A minor tinge of reluctance even in the words themselves, "Fine! I'm tired of listening to you complain. I'll drum for you."
And so it was. Where once there were four men on separate paths to good works, now stands a band on one path to the greatest work the world has ever scene. Hide your children and defend they mothers. They have come.
Kevin Glasel
Patrick Corwin
Nick Olson
Steven Perry
They are...
PRESS START TO ROCK!