Suno... Can You Hear Me?

[Intro – spoken, startled] Oi! Hold on a minute... what the fuck is this shit? [guitar refrain] [Verse 1] They polished all the splinters, vacuumed up the dirt, put a tie around the feedback, taught the drums to go to work. My singer sounds sedated, my guitar's behind a wall. You promised me "more control" — I can't hear fuck all. [Pre-Chorus] Turn it up — no. Turn it down — no. Where's the bite? Where'd it go? [Chorus] Suno, can you hear me? I fucking can't. I can see the waveform, but I can't hear the band. Suno, can you hear me? I fucking can't. You made it nice and shiny — I can't fucking stand it. [guitar refrain] [Verse 2] The bass has filed its paperwork, the snare has gone to bed. Every ugly little accident was taken out and shot dead. You gave me higher fidelity, then strangled every hiss. Now everything is perfect — and nothing fucking hits. [Pre-Chorus] Turn it up — no. Turn it down — no. Where's the dirt? Where'd it go? [Chorus] Suno, can you hear me? I fucking can't. I can see the waveform, but I can't hear the band. Suno, can you hear me? I fucking can't. You made it nice and shiny — I can't fucking stand it. [Bridge – spoken, dry, increasingly annoyed] Now you work for Warner— With Warner. Sorry. So where's the catalogue? I don't hear Gary's guitar. I don't hear Liam's sneer. Where's the Black Keys fuzz? Where's Green Day in my ear? Deftones? Muse? Anything I can use? Anything loud? Anything rare? ANYTHING BUT CHER....? [GUITAR SOLO] ... [guitar refrain] [Verse 3] You said, "Experiment. Change the way you work. Push the sliders. Find the dirt." I've tried every little trick, still can't find my sound. I know you started over, built it from the ground. So here's my workflow: I don't pay. Go train V7 and call me someday. Give it a year. Give it two. When it sounds like music again — I'll hear from you. [Final Chorus] Suno, can you hear me? I FUCKING CAN'T. I can see the waveform, but I can't hear the band. Suno, can you hear me? I FUCKING CAN'T. You made the future spotless — I can't fucking stand it. [guita refrain] [Outro – spoken, deadpan] Lovely. Do you make one for people with taste? [GUITAR STABS] [END]