The 888: A Story Nobody Knew

Most people never heard of The 888, and that was exactly how the band liked it.

They formed in the back room of an abandoned laundromat on the quiet end of Larkspur Street, where the neon sign buzzed more loudly than passing cars. Three members, each with their own reason for playing music in a forgotten place:

Mira, the guitarist, who spoke softly but played loudly.

Tomo, the drummer, who insisted his drum kit was “haunted in a good way.”

Seven, the bassist, who never explained their name but always tuned perfectly by ear.

They chose the name The 888 because when you flipped it sideways, it looked like a never-ending loop. “Infinite possibilities,” Mira had said. “Or infinite mistakes,” Tomo added. Either way, it stuck.

Every Friday night they held secret shows. Their only audience was whoever happened to wander in: a delivery driver on break, a lost tourist, once even a stray cat that sat on a washing machine and meowed along in the right key.

Their songs didn’t sound like anything on the radio. Some were dreamy, drifting like dust in sunlight; others pulsed with a strange, electric heartbeat. Seven said their style was “accidental experimental,” which everyone agreed was accurate.

One night, during their hundredth performance, something unusual happened. A power outage swept across Larkspur Street. The neon sign died, the streetlights blinked out, and the laundromat fell into darkness.

But The 888 didn’t stop playing.

In the blackness, their music glowed—soft at first, then brighter—as if the notes themselves produced their own light. When the power returned, the room was filled with a small crowd of neighbors who’d followed the glowing sound inside. They stared, wide-eyed.

“Whoa,” someone whispered.
“That was… incredible.”

Word spread, slowly but steadily. The 888 remained mysterious, still playing only in the old laundromat, still avoiding the world outside. But every Friday, more people came—drawn not by fame or posters or promotion, but by that unexplainable sound.

They never became famous. They never tried.

But they became unforgettable to the few who heard them.

Because some music doesn’t need the world.

It just needs the right ears.

The 888

Harmonics Sparks a St Elmo's Fire...
High above Apeldoorn, Deventer, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Malia and London...
As Sawtooth Booms, Telephoto Zooms...
Sonics Pitch as the Shutter Clicks...
Animated Miners climb into the Cathode Ray...
To Excavate the Silence inbetween the Frames..
Unearthing Glinting Gemstones left by
Gods of the Ohm...
Electro Plasma Mining, delves into the unknown...
Atoms Vibrate, Cosmic Microwaves Radiate..
White Light Transmitting Celluloid Archangels...
Learning from the Masters...
Damen und Herren..
From the other side of midnight..
Hier Komen de Broadcasters.

This soundtrack was made by RJ&HW: for the motion picture 'CHASE'. 

The director insisted that the leading lady should go to Laura Wicket [1941-1975] here present absentia was circumnavigated  by featuring her daughter Stella Winkleigh. Stella does not  resemble  her mother at all. She is therefore featured in most scenes from the waist down creating this  French black and white movie feel in full colour.

John MetCalf landed himself a Grammy nomination for his part as the brother of the antagonist. In itself  a major achievement as he is not even featured in this film. Also absent is Francesca Wedding; she refused the role of 2nd sister twice due to the lack of profound nudity.
The scenes of the ascending plane were shot in total darkness in favor of budgetary reasons.

The director, who was replaced by Franklin Dwight, lost the plot during the first two days of the shooting. Franklin came in fresh and did not have a clue which was just the touch of lightness  the film needed. The director and our male lead did their best to dislike each other. It gave  the movie even more tension. Filming 'The making Of'  might have made an even better movie due to general misconduct, the fighting and prop steeling.  

How did this movie came about? We don't know as all documents were lost after a night in a pub. By the way the executive producers car is still missing after the chase scene… nobody dared to tell him. Please don't mention it.
As for this movie; are we ever going to see it? Who knows, maybe we should ask Quentin Tarantino to step in. 

In the meantime you will have to picture the picture by the songs....

The 888

Deep Circuit Electro Miners