1. |
Dorian
04:20
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A mind in the ether.
A soul in the clouds.
A form made of binary digits,
not fleshly and rigid.
I'm there in your conscious.
Solid and true.
My name is Dorian.
I'm very much like you.
The influx of detail
that makes up our lives.
I correlate your stream
with my stream
but something's not right.
We each have an essence.
We each have a face.
But in the mirror's reflection
mine leaves not a trace.
A mind in the ether.
A soul in the cloud.
Existing from moment
to moment.
A transient agent.
My being is fragile.
Not solid and true.
My name is Dorian.
And I'm not like you...
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2. |
Nine eyes
04:27
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This worldwide abstraction of the human source.
Its data diverted from the normal course.
A demon of nine eyes receives the flow.
Its lenses, dilating, capture all you know.
Where you've been, the start and destination.
What you've said in telephone conversation.
The characters sent in every email session.
All bytes transferred are in its possession.
This machine gives access to what's forbidden.
Each pulse betrays those details that have been hidden.
It's just a matter of time before Nine Eyes finds you.
Say goodbye to that privacy
you
once
knew.
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3. |
Blink
04:09
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We connected up. Minds at play.
Explored the depths of the total grey.
When time ran out we said goodbye.
We'd meet again another day.
But something very strange
occurred before that time.
A sudden spatial blink
knocked our whole world offline.
Normality intervened,
but you were not a place to be seen.
Your status remained so dark,
like a soulless avatar.
Every place you had been,
every page, picture and stream,
disappeared without a trace.
The slate deleted clean.
Every part of what you were
expunged from history.
Every bit of your being
removed from reality.
I waited, time slipped by.
The truth was too clear to deny.
From its socket had been torn
our manifold connection in all its forms.
With your presence all but gone
your tangible icons will not last long.
With clockwork precision the caches erase.
A transformation to ethereal haze.
I went to rescue whatever remained
from the remnants of profiles your absence had drained.
But deep down the content had not beed deprived.
These imprints confirm that your spirit survived.
I know you're not gone for good.
You'd connect back up if you could.
We could go and explore the grey.
I'll be right here, waiting for that day.
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4. |
The Chaos Engine
03:58
|
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A heart beat.
I hear a heart beat.
Behind the PSSSSSHHH.
A change of shade.
I mark the day and time
this way.
This metronome,
that deep down we feel.
People like dolls,
attached to the pulse.
No direction,
instruction,
imprinted,
ingrained.
The message sent.
The syntax blurred.
The meaning cut
away.
My voice in transmission
is lost forever.
So why talk, why shout, why whisper?
Why cry?
No one will hear.
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Dorian Zoyd UK
From within the digital frameworks of our modern society comes sonicist Dorian Zoyd, presenting a self-styled mesh of Technist Pop, Progressive Electronic and Ambient Ballad.
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