I wanted to make a song out of broken sounds Not a clean pop song Not a perfect dance track Just fragments of things I used to love like Old house drums, Analogue sounds, Voices cut into pieces, Memories from the internet, I wanted it to sound cheap, strange, emotional, and alive Like the future already became old Like nostalgia was rebuilt inside a club This is why I make music To turn noise into feeling To turn leftovers into a body To make something beautiful from what does not fit... I collect the noise I collect the light I collect the pieces That never sounded right I cut up the voices I cut up the beat I put them together Until they start to breathe Broken styles Broken files Broken nights Broken smiles Make it cheap Make it shine Make it wrong Make it mine Turn noise into feeling. Turn leftovers into a body. Make it strange. Make it move. Fragments still move Fragments still move Fragments still move Broken things still dance Fragments still move Fragments still move Fragments still move Broken things still dance The future already became old. But it still dances.
