Somewhere, there's a dizzy parallel universe where there's no Radio One. No Capital Gold. No Magic FM. Where the soundtrack to everyday life throbs with manic day-glo doo-wop pop thrills and the words you hear have never been heard by mortal ears. It's a world where the smiling bubble offspring of Jeff Minter's perverted Corona dreams have to pass their fizzical by warbling joyous high pitched odes to MDMA and the wonders of surging serotonin. These amorphous blobs grin themselves to death for the love of plants. It's a happy, albeit brief existence.