New Retro

When God invented bass he had Enoch's 'fro in mind. Dating back to Ancient Times, a scholar practiced his fine craft until a sound caught his attention. Unfamiliar, yet heavily desirable, Enoch's ears tickled upon hearing a snare, hi-hat, and kick drum for the first time. He had no time to take in the moment though- he froze in a heavenly divine moment as the drum rhythmically coincided with the bass. Jaws dropped. Necks snapped. Funk was born.
Off in the distance, a young warrior pulled a sword out of stone. Enoch and Jason's groove echoed through the Lord's wind- letting off a Battle Cry for troops. Whistling his black stallion, Wey rode into town with a mission to rock. Kicking in the door, Wey stood in a power stance, and with one fell swoop laid down the hammer on his axe.
"NEOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!" the amp shook, boulders rolled down the mountain, causing the wall to come crumbling down.
"Is that Excalibur?" Questioned the Treeman with brows raised.
"No, it's my guitar... and it has the same effect: RAW POWER!" Wey exclaimed leading into an epic anthem.
"THE VIBRATIONS ARE AN EMOTIONAL HURRICANE TO MY FACE!" Jason shouted as his face blew off.
"Mine too," walked in Horn Master, Dave Matthews, "But you ain't seen nothin' yet." Preceding next was a trumpet ditty more cinematic than Casablanca. The solo moved the grown men to the point of tears. So gripping and precise was the brass that a water drop the size of Lake Michigan plunged down from the clouds. Drenched, the four men looked up in fear quickly turned astonishment. Weeping more gently than George Harrison's guitar, a life-size monster broke out into a tale of colossal heartbreak. Lost in a communal trance, the sages rested on a steady groove. In perfect unison, the Treeman, the Beat Father, the Warrior, the Horn Master, and the Gentle Giant harmonized in what is now considered the origin of Bluesy Funk-Rock. God bless and may the funk be with you.