Invaders 1938

by Terrible Spaceship

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about

Terrible Spaceship's first record, "Invaders: 1938," which tells the tale of the War of the Worlds as presented by Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater company, is now available.
It's a terrifying story you can dance to.

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released January 5, 2013

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Terrible Spaceship Chicago, Illinois

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Terrible Spaceship is probably Chicago's finest retro-futurist dance band. As far as we know, anyway.

Live shows feature a 7 piece band with a full horn section, synchronized video, professional lighting and highly danceable music.
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Track Name: Hello
We know now that in the early years of the twentieth century this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man's, serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small spinning fragment of solar driftwood.
Intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us.
Crosley service estimated that thirty-two million people were listening in on radios.
Track Name: Access Denied
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
From the Meridian Room in the Park Plaza in New York City, we bring you the music of Ramón Raquello and his orchestra.

Access Denied.

How far is Mars from earth?
Approximately forty million miles.
Well, that seems a safe enough distance.
Track Name: Stardust
Now a tune that never loses favor, the ever-popular "Star Dust."

We interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. At twenty minutes before eight, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving towards the earth with enormous velocity. Professor Pierson of the Observatory at Princeton confirms Farrell's observation, and describes the phenomenon as (quote) like a jet of blue flame shot from a gun (unquote). We now return you to the music of Ramón Raquello, playing for you in the Meridian Room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in downtown New York.
Track Name: Elizabeth
It is reported that at 8:50 P. M. a huge, flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grovers Mill, New Jersey, twenty-two miles from Trenton.
The flash in the sky was visible within a radius of several hundred miles and the noise of the impact was heard as far north as Elizabeth.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, there's something I haven't mentioned in all this excitement, but now it's becoming more distinct. Perhaps you've caught it already on your radio. Listen please:

Something's happening... Ladies and gentlemen, this is terrific! This end of the thing is beginning to flake off! The top is beginning to rotate like a screw! The thing must be hollow!

Good heavens, something's wriggling out of the shadow like a gray snake. Now it's another one, and another. They look like tentacles to me. There, I can see the thing's body. It's large, large as a bear and it glistens like wet leather. But that face, it . . .
Track Name: Extraterrestrial
Ladies and gentlemen, it's indescribable. I can hardly force myself to keep looking at it. The eyes are black and gleam like a serpent. The mouth is V-shaped with saliva dripping from its rimless lips that seem to quiver and pulsate. The monster or whatever it is can hardly move. It seems weighed down by . . . possibly gravity or something. The thing's raising up. The crowd falls back now. They've seen plenty. This is the most extraordinary experience. I can't find words . . .

I guess that's it. Yes, I guess that's the . . . thing, directly in front of me...

Keep back, there! Keep back, I tell you! Keep back there. Keep those idiots back!

I seen a kinda greenish streak and then zing!

Well, I've never seen anything like it.

The metal casing is definitely extraterrestrial.
Track Name: Eye Witness
We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening on the Wilmuth farm, Grovers Mill, New Jersey.


Ladies and gentlemen (Am I on?) Ladies and gentlemen, here I am, back of a stone wall that adjoins Mr. Wilmuth's garden. From here I get a sweep of the whole scene. I'll give you every detail as long as I can talk. As long as I can see. More state police have arrived They're drawing up a cordon in front of the pit, about thirty of them. No need to push the crowd back now. They're willing to keep their distance. The captain is conferring with someone. We can't quite see who. Oh yes, I believe it's Professor Pierson. Yes, it is. Now they've parted. The Professor moves around one side, studying the object, while the captain and two policemen advance with something in their hands. I can see it now. It's a white handkerchief tied to a pole . . . a flag of truce. If those creatures know what that means . . . what anything means!. . . Wait! Something's happening!

A humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's that? There's a jet of flame springing from the mirror, and it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes them head on! Good Lord, they're turning into flame!

(SCREAMS AND UNEARTHLY SHRIEKS)

Now the whole field's caught fire. (EXPLOSION) The woods . . . the barns . . . the gas tanks of automobiles . . . it's spreading everywhere. It's coming this way. About twenty yards to my right . . .

...Ladies and gentlemen, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are unable to continue the broadcast from Grovers Mill. Evidently there's some difficulty with our field transmission. However, we will return to that point at the earliest opportunity.
Track Name: Piano Interlude
We continue now with our piano interlude.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been handed a message that came in from Grovers Mill by telephone. Just a moment please. At least forty people, including six state troopers lie dead in a field east of the village of Grovers Mill, their bodies burned and distorted beyond all possible recognition.
Track Name: Heat Ray
Professor Pierson has been located at a farmhouse near Grovers Mill. As a scientist, he will give you his explanation of the calamity.

Of the creatures in the rocket cylinder at Grovers Mill, I can give you no authoritative information -- either as to their nature, their origin, or their purposes here on earth Of their destructive instrument I might venture some conjectural explanation.

For want of a better term, I shall refer to the mysterious weapon as a heat ray. It's all too evident that these creatures have scientific knowledge far in advance of our own. It is my guess that in some way they are able to generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute nonconductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror of unknown composition, much as the mirror of a lighthouse projects a beam of light. That is my conjecture of the origin of the heat ray.
Track Name: Lost
We're so lost we can't find our way out.
We're so lost we can't find our way.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a grave announcement to make. Incredible as it may seem, both the observations of science and the evidence of our eyes lead to the inescapable assumption that those strange beings who landed in the Jersey farmlands tonight are the vanguard of an invading army from the planet Mars.

The battle which took place tonight at Grovers Mill has ended in one of the most startling defeats ever suffered by any army in modern times; seven thousand men armed with rifles and machine guns pitted against a single fighting machine of the invaders from Mars. One hundred and twenty known survivors. The rest strewn over the battle area from Grovers Mill to Plainsboro, crushed and trampled to death under the metal feet of the monster, or burned to cinders by its heat ray.
Track Name: 10010011
10010011
Track Name: Wiped Out
No more defenses. Our army is wiped out . . . artillery, air force, everything wiped out. This may be the last broadcast. We'll stay here to the end . . .

All that's happened so far is because we don't have sense enough to keep quiet. . . botherin' them with guns and such stuff and losing our heads and rushing off in crowds. Now instead of our rushing around blind we've got to fix ourselves up -- fix ourselves up according to the way things are NOW. Cities, nations, civilization, progress. . . done.

Yes, but if that's so...
Track Name: Live
What is there to live for?

Well, there won't be any more concerts for a million years or so, and no nice little dinners at restaurants. If it's amusement you're after, I guess the game's up.

And what is there left?

Life! . . that's what! I want to live!
Track Name: The Fall
There before my eyes lay the Martians, with the hungry birds pecking and tearing brown shreds of flesh from their dead bodies.

Later when their bodies were examined in the laboratories, it was found that they were killed by disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared.
Track Name: The End
Writing down this last chapter of the record begun at a deserted farm in Grovers Mill.

Strange to see from my window the university spires dim and blue through an April haze. Strange to watch children playing in the streets.

Strange to see young people strolling on the green, where the new spring grass heals the last black scars of a bruised earth.

Strange to watch the sightseers enter the museum where the dissembled parts of a Martian machine are kept on public view.

Strange when I recall the time when I first saw it, bright and clean-cut, hard, and silent, under the dawn of that last great day.
Track Name: Goodbye
This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen, out of character to assure you that The War of The Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be. The Mercury Theatre's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying Boo! Starting now, we couldn't soap all your windows and steal all your garden gates by tomorrow night. . . so we did the best next thing. We annihilated the world before your very ears, and utterly destroyed the C. B. S.

You will be relieved, I hope, to learn that we didn't mean it, and that both institutions are still open for business. So goodbye everybody, and remember the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian. . .

it's Halloween.