When you want to get serious with me, I’ll get serious with you. Sima Kim is on my wavelength. Sima Kim is as serious as a heart attack, and you cannot stop Sima Kim. Cyborgs populate this post-carbon planet, inhabited mostly by ghosts since the atmosphere became too poisonous for people. Did I say post-carbon? Yeah, we’re waaay off into the future on this one, and “cyborg” is probably a misnomer for the beings who live here now. It’s sort of a combination of scientific breakthrough, synthesis, and adaptation through evolutionary means that have got this world where it is. Now, though, Sima Kim is ready to kick it again, kick it raw, ready for these ’bots to grind a dancefloor into oblivion. If Sima Kim can’t find a dancefloor, then get ready for the funkiest terraforming you’ve ever seen, partner.
These post-apocalyptic slow jams for a synthetic future explode like
mega-megaton warheads dropped from the upper atmosphere upon strategic points
across the globe. Maybe Sima Kim started this whole process of human
transformation at the beginning and is only now benefitting from the results.
And don’t get me wrong, we all benefit
from the results – we just needed a prod in the right direction to enable us to
handle the impact. Like a grime-meets-RnB pulse of sonic warfare, You Won’t Find My Punchlines Here is
true to its word, leveling the ruins of the past to lay a new foundation. Yes,
that’s seriously dank vibes. But whatever, it’s club night, let’s ride from the
darkness of daytime into the slightly darker moments of the night, because
that’s what we do now.
--Ryan Masteller
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