You play with just three strings on your guitar like most Mollks of the 1st generation. You play Arabian folk songs with a punk like anger of the first generation of mutants. Not considered human. Slaves to work the toxic oil fields. Your grandfather played before he died choking and turning grey purple one night. The music has always been there in the back of your mind. You play it. The songs your grandfather sang as your father taught you. You research and learn other traditional Mollkin songs. You get a occasional gig at intellictaul book stores. It pays for extra guitar strings and three solid meals a day, even when you don't gig for a couple weeks.