The story of Brian Burke and the journey that led him to Conflux just might be one of the most colorful, touching, and just plain interesting stories you're ever likely to hear. So sit back, grab a cup of your favorite herbal tea, adjust your monitor's contrast settings to a comfortable level, and enjoy.
The saga begins a century ago. Brian's great grandfather, John Wurstl Edwards, was a tinkerer of some renown in his native village of New York City, New York. Villagers would often run - or at least walk with a quick pace - if they heard the old man's bell ring out as he pushed his cart down the old cobblestone streets. You see, old John Wurstl Edwards provided a valuable service to the denizens of the area: he could sharpen your knives, repair your shoes, and even put curses on your enemies if the price was right. Yes, things were good for a time. But as everyone knows, times change.
October 3rd, 1909 turned out to be just such a time. It was early in the morning, and the wind blew cold. Mr. Edwards had buckled his shoes in the same manner as he always did: first the left and then the right. He wore on that day the same greyish green overcoat as he had become accostomed to throughout the seasons. His woolen cap was the same as ever. There was, however, something different on that day. It was the left front wheel on Cartigan, J.W. Edwards's faithful cart. He had noticed it begin to squeek a bit more than usual of late and on that day the wheel had finally "given up the ghost" and separated from its axle. This, of course was within the ability of such an experienced tinker to fix, but it was time lost on the job. Valuable time.
The loss, however temporary, of Cartigan of course had a tremendous impact on the only son of John Wurstl Edwards. The appropriately named Wendall Archibald Edwards vowed that he would never find himself in the same position. Thus, he left New York and the traditional family trade to seek out his own fortune in Rexburg, Idaho.
After some short lived and ill-advised dabbling in real estate and pyramid marketing schemes, Wendall Archibald finally found his true calling as he set up a somewhat successful practice as a phrenologist. As the only practicing Phrenologist in a hundred mile radius, W.A. Edwards became something of a celebrity in the area. He published a quarterly periodical entitled "Phrenology Today" and hosted monthly badminton tournaments at his estate. This level of success allowed access to women of the finest breeding, and after a two year courship, Wendall Archibald Edwards was married to Winnifred Pauline Tavistock. Together they produced three offspring: William Fitzgerald Edwards-Tavistock, Clinton Walker Edwards-Tavistock, and James Sawyer Edwards-Tavistock. At this point in our story it is necessary for the sake of brevity to focus only on the path of James Sawyer Edwards-Tavistock, but rest assured the stories of all three children are worth telling and may be the subject of a later essay.
James Sawyer Edwards-Tavistock, destined to be the father of Brian Burke, always knew that he wanted to be a self-made man. Never one to ride on the coattails of his father's success as a Phrenologist, James set out at an early age to make it on his own. Driving to Odessa, Texas in a red studebaker, James knew that he would be in a place where he could finally challenge himself to make it on his own. It was here that he opened his first McDonald's franchise. It would not be his last. For some people, certain things come easily and for James Sayer Edwards-Tavistock, that was franchise ownership. McDonald's, Taco Bell, and later even Steak and Shake. It didn't matter. If it could be franchised, James Sawyer Edwards-Tavistock wanted in. When Brian was finally born in 1978, James was the proud owner of 14 different establishments and a wealth of experience and knowledge that he could impart to his son.
So, as you can see, all of us arrive where we are in life because of those who came before us. But what of Brian's personal story? It has been said that through arcane studies, Brian has the ability to control fire with his mind, shoot lasers out of his fingers, and play 56 notes per second (nps). But are these only legends? No. This is true. That is what led Brian to Conflux, and this is why Conflux is a good band. In the words of Brian himself, "the only thing that matters is the bass." Truer words have never been spoken.