Dom has a time machine made of synthesisers and he's ready to go back to our future (his past)

Dom is here with you in the theatre, in the past (his past). But Dom can time travel. The secret is all around us, in tiny wormholes too small to see. He just needs a vibration to unlock them, a sound, a key. And he’s found it, hidden in subliminal tones on an old cassette, and it’s a huge power-pop chord that will rip history to pieces, if he can only get back to 2022, or at least leave his flat.

Confessional, touching, implausible and explosive, this one-man tragicomic time-travelling tall tale collides post-millennial climate chaos with H G Wells’ The Time Machine to explore present-day anxiety, family and anomie through the medium of synths, samples, vocals and drum machines. As Dom loops and samples himself, his friends, his history and general history, time slides back and forward, and near-future glimpses seep through, based on science and fiction. Coyote’s vocals swoop, soar and flail from delicate falsetto to desperate yelp, conjuring Back to the Future vibes on a disco-smoked stage streaked with disco-coloured lights.

Is Dom crazy? Is time travel all around us, all of the time? Are our hopes for the future a hopeless swizz? Time collapses back on itself and the cracks start to show in our cablepunk hero, but as his desperation increases, the songs get brighter, gently holding the impossible anxiety of living in soft synth cradles. Commissioned by a building and based on a curiously plausible story of an idolised academic grandfather lost at sea during cutting-edge audio research, this piece present puzzles as well as pleasure. If you want to see the sun die in fire, hack quantum mechanics in your bedroom, or listen to the sound of the aurora borealis, this is the show for you. Will be the show for you. Was.