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Music never touched me when I was a young scamp walking and talking the streets of Chorley Borough, learning to talk shit with my mate the Brain. My parents brought me up fantastically, but in terms of music they abused me. There are undiscovered bacteria on Pluto that have a more informed musical taste than that of my parents. I love them dearly but I would often wake up in the middle of the night and accidentally wee all over their CD collection mistaking it for the toilet. But I know that I am not alone. Many of us have suffered the unavoidable torture of mainstream music. People who deem themselves artists make a living out of music even though they can’t sing live, play an instrument, write songs or piss straight. Many of us just give in to the S Club 7 movement, with some of us left clinging to the greats like Hendrix and wish they would come back and rescue us. It will never happen. We as a band know that the only option left is to make our own music, for ourselves more than for anyone else’s. As I was growing up I looked up to singers and musicians with awe. A total respect through untouchable admiration. To me the very thought of going up on stage made stains in my underwear that would make Mr Domestos redundant. I admired anyone who could go out and put their soul up for sale with the hope that someone might just buy and not come crawling back with the receipt when the novelty had worn of. To me there was a fear of putting myself on the line and becoming transparent. But subliminally there was a want to do it. I just needed to overcome the fear. If you conquer the things that you are most afraid of then your death bed with be a comfy one. Eventually I found my answer. This fear is irrelevant because there is a far bigger fear. Never doing it at all. Bob Dylan once said ‘A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does exactly what he wants to do’. Obviously this can’t be applied to paedophiles, mass murderers and Jade Goody. But you know what ball I’m bouncing. And no matter how bad you could possibly be in a band you couldn’t be any worse than Michael Bolton, Justin Timberlake or Phil Collins. Three people of whom you could accurately call the musical equivalent of Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin. Nostradamus predicted that the next Anti Christ would emerge at the start of the 21st Century. Most believe that we are still waiting and that he has not yet arrived. As far as I am concerned Nostradamus’ predictions came to fruition when ‘Steel Bars’ was released. Not only does Michael Bolton look like a WWF wrestler who couldn’t find the protein shakes but his songs are the work of Beelzebub. Capewell and Heysey have been mates for years. While locked in the French Teachers cupboard they fantasised about being in a band. ‘Sidestep’ never lasted long. White Stanley would never have passed the Political Correctness test. School ended. The dreaming ended. Alcohol Started and it took ten years of dormancy. When I was 12 I played football with Heysey and didn’t see him until I was 16 when I went on a holiday to Turkey with him via some mutual friends. We are similar in many ways but not on our views of Turkey. Heysey ‘It’s a great place. EFES Pilsner’. Danny ‘I’m not surprised the Kurds want a Revolution’. So Heysey introduced me to Capewell and after ten years of drinking and pissing about and bumping into Alex Reid along the way our little project was born. I can’t even remember meeting Alex for the first time. I’d say that’s a good sign. I’d say you never remember the first time you meet the good people in your life. Proof? Do you remember meeting your mother? Learning to play our instruments was easy. Writing the songs was easy. Application and commitment was easy. Deciding on a name was fucking hard work. For months we called ourselves ‘La Tormenta’, which is Spanish for ‘the storm’. Original? Yes. Catchy? Yeah probably, but we had been beaten to it by a Hispanic soap opera. To keep that name would be akin to a Spanish Rock band calling themselves ‘Emmerdale Farm’. A shortlist was drawn up. Certain suggestions like ‘The Dalai Farmers’ and ‘Flange’ were deemed a little silly. In the end it was BrakeScene. In reference to our sound. We never set out to achieve a particular sound and it has very rarely been discussed. It’s natural. Throwing in a corny phrase ‘You’ve gotta do what feels right’! You have to play music for yourselves and not for other people. What’s the point of wearing a coat to keep someone else warm? So people ask me what we sound like? You make your own minds up about that. If we’re shit we’re shit. If we’re the best thing since Warburtons then so be it. Jean Jacques Rousseau said that every man is born free but will spend the rest of his life bound in chains. This is a true reflection of modern human life. Music is a true and rare exception to this. You are free from the chains and can play every chord in complete freedom knowing that you don’t have the right not to do so.