EDM.com Spotlight

EDM.com Spotlight


Please don’t do it! It literally melted my hard drive. The second it’s data entered my device, a devilish, smiling, black and white emoji face appeared on the screen, staring into my soul with its evil, piercing, 4th dimensional eyes. In an epileptic fit of strobe lights, “666-ACID” flashed on the screen, synchronized to the deafening sound of plasma pulse lasers and overdriven subwoofer saturation. A sinister voice spoke to me from the heavens, its message a splattered mess of Creole tongues, endlessly repeating this warning, “Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!”

Green, acrid smoke started to billow out of the sides of my computer and a surge of electricity shocked me through the keyboard and traveled up my fingertips into my arms and chest through heart and soul. The neurons in my auditory cortex began to sizzle and melt as corrosive bass lines unraveled the wrinkled sulci of my brain. Around me the world began to disintegrate into a matrix of binary code. The floor and walls of my apartment began to “Transform” into billions of lines of ones and zeros, infecting the furniture and the ceiling as my neural programming became corrupted.

Slowly at first and then all at once, the binary bits began to morph into the evil emoji face on my computer screen. From the walls emerged dozens of bio-digital renderings of lurking silhouettes, their ghastly faces permanently affixed with a twisted smirk. Sluggishly they move toward me like interdimensional glitch-zombies, all the while moaning like some ghoulish choir of the damned. I rushed for the door before they surrounded me, but as I grasped the knob it melted into mercury, dribbling onto the floor where it ate through the carpet like acid.

Every sound became part of the mindless soundtrack in the air around me, my every step another 808 stomp box. I hurried into my bedroom, dodging the disembodied arms protruding from the walls. In an act of desperation, I lunged at the window near my writing desk. Like a browser page being minimized, my last opportunity for freedom disappeared into empty wall space, trapping me in this artificial prison. In my “Hysteria,” I pounded against the walls with my bare fists, screaming myself hoarse, “Help! I Can’t Find My Way Out!”

Fingertips then hands and arms reached forth from the ground to grasp my ankles, seizing then dragging me like a ragdoll back into my living room before heaving me up the wall and onto the vaulted ceiling where I hung, flailing about in panic. Below me in the moshing sea of “Dark Souls,” a raging whirlpool of digital djinni began to circle about in unison, warping space-time. A single entity materialized in the center, levitating toward me as the sound pressure of the noise in my vicinity vibrated through me, constricting my ribcage with its mighty grip. As the figure drew closer I began to see the glittering patterns of his pixelated patchwork pants and the 8-bit monochrome head shawl that completely enshrouded its face.

Tinnitus, distorted fuzz caused by hearing damage, pierced my eardrum, shattering the little bones in my inner ear. My cochlea collapsed and the fluids of my equilibrium oozed out of their canals and down my lobes. Face to face, noses touching, the entity tore away its shawl, revealing to me a bearded face I somewhat recognized. The meat of its head swirled around like putty until we faced each other eye to eye. Its pupils smiled at me with a fire that burned with a thousand hells. Its gritted teeth stretched from ear to ear, beaming at me like a lunatic. I now recognized the face before me as my own, though contorted with a fiendish glare. It’s wrinkled lips pursed together and speak the last word I’ll ever hear, “Drop!”