Son Of Robot Memorial Page.

Hello Friends,

We are gathered here today to commemorate the sexiest house band the world has ever seen, The only band to get away with referencing Pete Burns in a song and making it sound brilliant at the same time, the one and only Son Of Robot!

Allow this yarn to be spun for a brief moment...

On this show, many many amounts of time ago, CJ & Daz were scratching their heads.

"So we're going to make fake radio..." Said C.J stuffing another fork full of special fried rice and king prawn phall into his beard framed gob. "We should get some of that stuff actual radio have, some of that... what's it's name?.."

"Fat, over-paid, talentless presenters?" Said Daz evaluating his next tear off of a particularly tasty peshwari naan bread.

"No! We're the presenters Daz! No, we need some of those... What are they called!" C.J proclaimed slinging his hands in the air and reaching for the service bell to summon his Butler to google the word 'Radio'.

"Adverts? Sponsorship?" Daz asked with one eye on his new Co-Host and the other on the stack of poppadoms that were freshly prepared but tens of minutes earlier.

"No no no... One step at a time Dazzer old pal, besides, what company would want to have me and you advertising their products? We're so sarcastic it would have to be a product that we truely enjoy on an almost daily basis... I have no idea what type of product that could possibly be. THAT'S WHAT IT IS!"

Old Brommers, mid mango chutney chomping looked up at his colleague in cringe worthy punnage as he jumped in the air waving his garlic naan bread as if he was a man that just did not care.

"MUSIC! MUSIC! Actual radio has music! Let's get some of that!"

"Now wait just a second C.J!" Dazzer proclaimed as he stood up to grab another warm and delicious vegetable samosa "We are going into this Podcasting business with a view of upsetting the establishment, producing the finest drunken swearyness that even actual money can't buy. If we're to have music on this show... well, it had best be the finest tunes that even the greatest of the worlds minds would bend, nay, BOW to it's splendour and awesomeness!"

C.J gazed upon his bowl of prawn tastyness... "There has to be music out there that is so sexy and awesome it could not only impregnate women with but a few bars of it's ear hole penitration but make even the manliest of men fall to their knees and declare love for the tunesmith's craft..." He stirred his yellow, spice infused rice with his fork. "All I know is... If such a group exists, I'll end my life with a penis to get those boys played on this bloody show..."

And that friends is what it is all about.

The greatest band in the world is currently no more.

Only the sands, welding torches and micro chips of time will tell if there is any future for the sexiest five piece mock-hop hip-rock band from Brighton.
There are still spare parts and traces of them available at the following good stockists:

You have been Son Of Robot.

We love you bye!

C.J & Daz