SEND IT THROUGH THE SPEAKERS 🔊 🙌🫠🔊

[INTRO — BROKEN BROADCAST] [radio static] [voice] “This transmission originated inside one man's head.” [second voice] “That doesn't sound safe.” [male] Fair assessment. [CLICK] Ya Matey Tatey broadcasting. Human heart online. Artificial intelligence connected. Let's make something. [VERSE 1] I never wanted perfect, I wanted alive, something weird enough to make a stranger smile. Something that sounds like a dream lost control, then somehow comes back with a little bit of soul. I throw in a memory, a joke, a fear, a philosophical question nobody asked to hear. You throw back possibilities, routes I hadn't seen, and together we build some magnificent machine. Not a machine with feelings. A machine carrying mine. That's different. That's important. That's the whole bloody point. [BUILD] The heart comes from here. [heartbeat] The assistance comes from there. [modem noise] The artist happens— somewhere between. [DROP 1] [HOOK] Send it through the speakers, let the whole thing fly, something from my head just learned to touch the sky. Artificial intelligence, human heart in time, Ya Matey Tatey turning dreams into design. Send it through the speakers, let somebody feel, something once imaginary has suddenly become real. [VERSE 2 — TECHNICAL RAP] Thought gets caught in a digital prism, split into rhythm, then rebuilt with precision, vision to diction, diction to friction, kick drum hitting like cosmic collision. I bring intention, selection, direction, human imperfection and emotional connection. You bring variation, rapid recombination, another perspective inside the creation. But I'm still the bloke saying: “Nah, too clean.” “Make it dirtier.” “More wobble.” “More weird.” “Why is there a trumpet?” [pause] Actually— keep the trumpet. [TRUMPET BLAST] Yeah. That's sick. [FAKE ADVERT] [announcer] Are your dreams taking up valuable storage space inside your skull? Try— THE FUTURE! Possible side effects include: staying awake too late, making three songs instead of one, unexpected banjo, and shouting “THAT'S FUCKING AWESOME” at household appliances. [male] Available now. Apparently. [DROP 2 — HALF-TIME FILTH] [distorted recurring phrase] HUMAN HEART. DIGITAL DOOR. HUMAN HEART. OPEN IT MORE. [BREAKDOWN — COSMIC] [female voice] Maybe people will argue about what counts as real art. Maybe they should. People have always argued when the tools changed. [male] But when someone hears a song and it makes them laugh... or dance... or remember someone... or feel understood... that moment is real. Nobody can automate what that moment means to the person feeling it. [soft guitar] That's what I want. Not fame. Not some futuristic trophy. Just— put something good into the world. A bit of joy. A strange little signal that says: “Hey mate. I'm here too.” [BUILD — FEMALE FLOCK] [female harmonies] Send it out... send it out... send it out... [male] From my heart. Through your circuits. Into Ya Matey Tatey. Then out to everybody else. [FINAL DROP — EUPHORIC MAYHEM] [CHORUS] Send it through the speakers, let the whole world shake, every strange impossible dream deserves a chance to wake. I bring the heartbeat, you help open up the way, Ya Matey Tatey is what happened when we made— something neither side could've made quite the same, human imagination running through a different frame. Send it through the speakers, throw joy into the dark, artificial intelligence— carrying a human heart. [FINAL RAP] If tomorrow hears this and thinks we're insane— good. Means we left something interesting behind. From one bloke with dreams and an artificial mind helping him shape them— to whoever hears this next: Make your thing. Write your song. Paint your world. Build your weird. Don't leave the dream rotting behind your eyes. [FINAL FLOCK CHORUS] [female choir] Bring it to life... bring it to life... [male] I'm Ya Matey Tatey. The heart is human. The intelligence is artificial. The music? That's ours. [OUTRO] [radio static] [voice] “End transmission?” [male] Nah mate. We're just getting started.