It was a dream of mine for awhile to host a show in an abandoned subway station somewhere, molding underground, but still easy to get to, just gotta know the right corners in the city. Then-again, I’m terrible at interacting with people, so maybe it wouldn’t work out. Or it would, and we all get murdered by alligators or demons or mole-people. Everyone yelling for their lives, and reallynathan zoned in “on stage” (which is just the subway platform) mixing and oozing samples like this IS the last night, ever. CKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKC turn’t to a level so nobody can hear the cries for help below, nor can he. Blood across the speakers, tracks, the equipment reallynathan is mixing with, and reallynathan’s outfit. Drenched and dripping red. The atmosphere a little warmer too. Souls rise up:
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