Steely. Cold room. Cold metal chair. A metal door that transmitted grim finality. That faint smell of ozone playing like a dread prelude to the adrenaline surge coursing up and down my spine. I am staring down the gun muzzle of synthetic…

I used to ride the train a lot. The lyric was written on one of those meandering rides through the rust belt of Germany.

A true story. Predictably, the photo forms the album art for this record. I've never felt incredibly close to my Dad, but it's not like he didn't try.

The most experimental of the pieces in the album. Shawn Klein, a long-time internet friend, shares my interest in sound. He is a radio host and has various radio programs on the Global Voice internet radio, including one where he explores many…

Created in VCV Rack 2.

RPM 08 Mix 1