Today I come back from the cold to tell you about three blinding techno albums released in 2018. If we project their vibes into multi-dimensional culture-space, we find them clustering with failed visions of the F-117 Nighthawk that were too deadly sleek, that Culture novel Iain M Banks would have written if cancer hadn’t taken him above, and the collective galactic encephalogram produced by a generation of kosmische hacks now resting body-dead but not brain-dead in Amoeba records’ new age section.
I will keep things short because each word I type is a blip in the sensorium of those obsidian sharks that lurk in the impossible cathedrals of this music. Remember the words carved in the altar:
Silence is gold, beats are titanium.
This is what happens when the Harkonen are uplifted
And this is the geometry of Crockett and Isabella’s separation, sometime after the Singularity.
And this is one of the high-points of the Singularity, when the dead arise from their digital detritus, and off to their scattered bodies go.