[INTRO — whispered, sparse Rhodes] I asked the machine for something dangerous... [TRUMPET: one dry, sarcastic phrase] ...and it gave me a better mix. [VERSE 1 — restrained vocal] I asked for fire, you gave me clean. The finest little waveform anyone's ever seen. I asked for ugly, I asked for strange. I asked for something I could never arrange. [TRUMPET: sarcastic answer] You said, “I understand.” [PAUSE] You clearly don't. [CHORUS — full band] V6, V6, what have you done? You made my masterpiece sound like everyone. Perfect timing, perfect pitch, perfect song— [STOP] —and not a single itch. I wanted soul, you gave me polish. I wanted chaos, you gave me knowledge. V6, congratulations, you're technically right— [DROP] You made the wrong song... ...perfectly tonight. [BRIDGE — spoken, minimal bass] V5 had ghosts inside the machine. A crooked chord, a cracked high note, a drummer falling off the beat. It wasn't perfect. [TRUMPET: lonely note] That's why it lived. [V6 SYSTEM VOICE — deadpan] Please specify desired emotion. [SPOKEN] Angry. Please specify degree of anger. Furious. Please specify commercially acceptable fury. [PAUSE] ...Forget it. [FINAL CHORUS — aggressive jazz-rock] V6, V6, you're technically great. You've mastered the ancient art of eliminating fate. I wanted a monster, you gave me a brand. I wanted a band, you gave me a plan. [TRUMPET: wild burst] Somewhere between “better” and “new”— [DROP TO BASS] The machine got better... [LONG PAUSE] ...and the music got you. [OUTRO — whispered] Here's to the future, perfectly tuned. Every little mistake carefully removed. [TRUMPET: unresolved final note] If music is feeling... [PAUSE] ...why does my perfect song make me feel nothing again? [V6 SYSTEM VOICE] Generation complete.
