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Raised in the infamous digital pits of infestation, the last real DJ alive was for the best part of two years staring into a lifetime of torturous agony. After the UK garage scene sewed the seeds for the death of dance music, Don John "The Bastard" (as he was then known) donned his customised drum & bass digi-claw, tore open a deep hole in the Musical Timeline , then somersaulted headlong in, beginning his search for the evil tyrants behind this disaster.

Peering anxiously through the looking glass, Don John "The Bastard" was horrified to see that the essence of DJing was slowly becoming crippled and dismembered with the introduction of BPM counters, computer software and laptop-based sequencers. The mere thought of PJs [Phoney DJs] premixing their beats before a set was enough to set John into 'destructo mode'. It was at this point that his world started caving in on him, whilst he was still trapped inside the Musical Timeline . Chained to a vinyl plaque with razor wire, John mustered all his strength to break free, severing all four limbs in the process. He was forced to teleport back to the entrance by summoning all the power of his record collection, which left him to this very day suffering from amnesia, unable to recall his heroic efforts.

NB: Don John's limbs were resynthesized by the spirit of John Lennon, as recognition for his restoration of the Strawberry Fields, circa 2005. And so, with his Vestax verticle-scratch decks, labyrinthe record collection and unrivalled ability to fuck the crowd with sexy music, Don John "The Bastard" was given the extended title of 'The Last Real DJ Alive'... the only surviving DJ of his kind.

Coming into 2006, the eutopia of the DJ now exists solely inside the mind of our young protagonist. Here, turntablists are like athletes who have to perform on the day. Pulling off a death-defying, once-in-a-lifetime mix in this world is comparable to Maradona dribbling round the entire England defence and scoring in the WC finals. For this reason, the modern-day DJ (who mixes their beats on a computer) is by definition the 'Chelsea FC' of the Musical Timeline , where the outcome of their set is predictable, and their flair and artistry non-existent.

At last, we come to the present. The Last Real DJ Alive has assumed the guise of an inconspicuous, rogue Jedi in the leafy suburbs of Greater London, where he currently holds council with those who have a recollection of the time when DJs weren't wankers. Through his record label [22:22] John plans to enlist people silently for La Revolución; before signalling DJ Armageddon and imbuing the art of turntablism with credibility once more. Just wait for the 22nd of February; year 2222, at 22:22, and thou shalt be judged, child...


HERE IS A VIDEO BLOG OF A TYPICAL NIGHT ON THE TILES FOR THE LAST REAL DJ ALIVE :

During the night, necking a double-shot of battery fluid

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The Last Real DJ Alive - Bulletproof - clocking 3 Vodka shots

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After the night, hiding from the police and wearing a disguise

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This is one of the many creatures The Last Real DJ Alive has rescued from extinction on the various, dying planets he's visited. It's called a "Yosh Yosh", and can be seen here resting atop a hologram of an old English sofa.

The Last Real DJ Alive fires up his teleportation device, moments before returning to the Musical Timeline.

And to finish off, a recent picture capturing the exact moment when The Last Real DJ Alive realises that the person standing next to him is in fact one of the universe's deadliest covert assassins.