Dear Future Archaeologists

The year is 2019.

One fateful night, I was wandering the beach by myself in Coney Island. Encountering a sudden sharp pain in my left foot, I looked down to discover I had stubbed my toe on an object half-buried in the sand. Bending down to see it and feeling its coolness in my hand, I was amused to discover that it was a wine bottle, scratched up but still water-tight to the damaging effects of the sea.

Within this bottle was an ancient, faded manuscript, and on it was a score for a fascinating piece of music. My teachers in the Lehman College music department had it carbon dated to about the year 1750, but it contains many modern elements that wouldn't become popular for hundreds of years, such as electric guitars. Unfortunately, I lost the original document in a mysterious incident.

The band

Since then, I've found myself adopted by a gang of queer Philly punks, who have sometimes expressed interest in playing this strange piece. For that purpose, we have formed an 8-person punk band where we dress up like pirates, known as Dear Future Archaeologists. So far our activities are limited to a handful of exclusive shows in Philadelphia's finest basements, but our criminal ambition knows no bounds. The best way to keep an eye on our activities would be our Instagram page, although hopefully I will remember to update this space with information as it becomes available as well.