[INTRO - OLD RADIO / VERY LOW] [AM static, low electrical hum, distant reverse guitar] [Male announcer, calm and formal] Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is your host speaking to you from somewhere slightly beyond reception. Please remain calm. The program has already begun. [Low fuzz bass enters] [VERSE 1 - 7/8 / CONTROLLED] [Baritone guitar pulses underneath vintage broadcast vocal] At twelve-oh-three the walls began to move. Not enough to cause alarm. Just enough to make the picture frames lean toward me. At twelve-oh-five my shadow left the room. It crossed the floor, stood beneath the television, and waited for me to notice. [Pause] I did. [VERSE 1B - DARKER] The wallpaper blinked. Once. Then twice. Then every painted flower opened an eye. The ceiling breathed through a crack in the plaster. The radio dial turned by itself. And somewhere between two dead stations, a voice used my name. [PRE-CHORUS - BUILD] [Feedback slowly rises, drums fall into half-time] I checked the mirror. My reflection was already there. But it was not copying me. It smiled first. [STOP] Then it whispered: “Stay tuned.” [CHORUS - HUGE / 4/4] [Massive fuzz guitars, full drums, analog synth wash] THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST. KEEP YOUR HANDS INSIDE THE SIGNAL. THE SKY IS BENDING. THE WIRES ARE SINGING. SOMETHING IS COMING THROUGH. THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST. DO NOT ADJUST THE SOUND. IF YOU CAN HEAR ME — IT CAN HEAR YOU. [POST-CHORUS - SHORT] [Radio tuning sweep, distorted guitar motif] Stay tuned. Stay tuned. Stay— [Signal cuts] [VERSE 2 - LOWER / MORE DISTURBING] [Clean phaser guitar, heartbeat kick, deep bass] At twelve-seventeen the carpet opened. Not like a door. Like a mouth. There were lights beneath it. Cities. Stars. A black sun turning slowly under the floorboards. I saw figures walking upside down. They carried umbrellas through a silver rain. Their faces were smooth. Their mouths were radios. And every one of them was broadcasting me. [DARK SPOKEN RAP - TIGHT / RHYTHMIC] [Kick locks with bass, guitars become mechanical] Channel one: a childhood memory. Channel two: a room I never entered. Channel three: my mother's voice speaking backward. Channel four: someone breathing in an empty studio. Five. Six. Seven. Static. Eight. Nine. Something knocks from the other side of the frequency. Ten— [STOP] Do not answer. [PRE-CHORUS 2 - RISING] The mirror has a pulse now. I checked twice. The glass is warm. There are fingerprints on the inside. [Pause] Ladies and gentlemen— that should not be possible. [CHORUS - HEAVIER] THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST. KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE SIGNAL. THE ROOM IS TURNING. THE GLASS IS BURNING. SOMETHING IS COMING THROUGH. THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST. DO NOT ADJUST THE SOUND. IF YOU CAN HEAR ME — IT ALREADY KNOWS YOU. [BRIDGE - FREE TIME / COLLAPSE] [Tempo dissolves] [Reverse cymbals, tape flutter, detuned piano, distant feedback] [Announcer still trying to remain professional] We are currently experiencing a minor technical disturbance. Please— remain— [Static burst] calm. [Voice becomes closer] There are people inside the ceiling. There are stars inside my teeth. There is a second moon behind the first one. And something is turning the station dial from inside my skull. [Whispered broadcast voice] Testing. One. Two. Three. Can you hear me? [Pause] Can I? [FINAL BUILD - SLOW / MASSIVE] [Sub-bass rises, low guitars enter one by one] For those just joining us— you are too late. The signal is no longer coming from the tower. The signal is coming from here. [Tap on microphone] From the desk. From the walls. From the blood. From the space behind the eyes. [FINAL CHORUS - MAXIMUM] [Full saturated band, massive 4/4 drums] THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST! NO MORE WEATHER. NO MORE NEWS. NO MORE MUSIC FOR THE LIVING. THE SKY HAS OPENED. THE SIGNAL HAS SPOKEN. AND NOW IT SPEAKS THROUGH ME. THIS IS THE LAST BROADCAST! NO FREQUENCY LEFT TO FIND. YOU WERE LISTENING TO THE SIGNAL— [STOP] NOW THE SIGNAL IS LISTENING TO YOU. [OUTRO - COLLAPSE] [All drums stop] [Feedback, tube hum, slowing tape] [Male announcer, suddenly calm again] Ladies and gentlemen... thank you for listening. This concludes tonight's transmission. [Long static] [Very close whisper] There was never a station. [Click]
