When she was just a little girl, Sweet Sarah was playing on her swing in the
suburban backyard that had made up her universe till then. Somewhere in
the distance she heard a strange and bewitching sound, music the likes of
which she had never heard before. She hopped off the swing and crept closer
toward the source of the sound, till she had her ear up against the neighbours'
fence. What she heard delighted and excited her, so she slipped through
the little hole in the fence that her dog Scamp always kept disappearing
through when the bitch next door was on heat, which Daddy didn't like at all,
Scamp being a pedigree Maltese and all. To her astonishment she saw a big
white cat on a sun lounger, drinking a martini and listening to a boombox. He
motioned for her to come over with a wave and a smile. Uncertain of what
to do as Daddy had always told her to stay away from strange cats, she
waivered. But, tempted by the wonderful sounds coming out of the machine and the
friendly smile on the cats' face, she overcame her apprehension and
trotted over, plonking herself down on an empty garden chair. As she sat the
music washed over her, waves of perfectly timed percussion with a low-down
hoochy mama bassline that just made Sweet Sarah just want to get up shake her
derriere. These were no nursery rhymes. She was very impressed.

"What tunes are these, buddy?" she asked the smiling cat.
"Deep, funky, progressive and intelligent House Music, baby..." the cat
purred lazily, taking a sip from his drink, "....you like?"
"Damn, cat - that there is some of the finest beats I ever heard."

And that, as they say in the classics, was that.

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