I LIKE WHAT EVOLUTION DID WITH YOU

Patchnote Prophet

Patchwave

Patchnote Prophet

synth-rock, glam-pop, new-wave

CUSTOM

[TRANSMISSION — FIRST CONTACT]

[soft radio scan]

[low synth pulse]

[unfamiliar voice fragments, unintelligible]

[Prophet — amused:]

New world.

New sky.

New atmosphere.

[pause]

New people.

[pause]

Oh.

Well.

Hello.

[beat enters]

[VERSE I — SOFT]

[smooth electro-funk groove]

You stepped through violet rain
with silver in your fur,

eyes catching every neon sign
like they were made for you.

Soft enough
to lose my fingers in—

hypothetically.

Purely observational.

Mostly.

You smiled
with something almost human,

then laughed
in frequencies I couldn't name.

And somehow
that only made it better.

Evolution
has excellent taste.

[PRE-CHORUS — WHAT'S YOUR TYPE?]

[synths rising]

Someone asked me:

"What's your type?"

[pause]

I thought about it.

Longer than expected.

Then I looked around.

[beat]

Yes.

Apparently.

[CHORUS — I LIKE WHAT EVOLUTION DID WITH YOU]

[huge glossy 80s lift]

I like what evolution
did with you.

Soft or scaled,
strange or smooth,

every beautiful shape
the stars could choose.

Male, female,
somewhere between,

somewhere completely
off the screen—

I like what evolution
did with you.

Oh, baby—

the universe
has been busy.

[POST-CHORUS — SIX EYES]

[music drops to synth bass]

[Prophet — low:]

Six eyes?

[pause]

Darling...

that's just six opportunities

to catch me staring.

[sax flourish]

[VERSE II — HARD]

[groove gets dirtier]

Scales like polished midnight,

warm where I expected cold.

Chitin catching ultraviolet

like lacquered alien gold.

Claws?

I'm listening.

Tail?

Apparently
it has opinions.

Crest rising
when you laugh at me—

that's either flirting

or a warning.

[pause]

I can work with either.

[Glitch-tar stab]

[PRE-CHORUS II — THE UNIVERSE DID THAT]

You don't look
like anything

Earth ever taught me
to call beautiful.

Good.

Earth wasn't finished
with the definition.

Neither were the stars.

[CHORUS II — EVERY FORM]

I like what evolution
did with you.

Feathered bright
or armored through,

fur and scales
in combinations
nobody on Earth ever knew.

He, she,
They,
something new—

give me a minute,
I'll learn the words for you.

I like what evolution
did with you.

The galaxy
is showing off again.

[SYNTH BREAK — PURELY SCIENTIFIC]

[bright arpeggiator]

[radio chirps]

[Prophet:]

Four hands.

[pause]

Fascinating.

[pause]

No, no.

This is science.

[longer pause]

Extremely
underfunded science.

[synth bass slides]

[VERSE III — NO HUMAN BOX FITS]

[midnight new-wave pulse]

One world
had voices like thunder.

One
could sing through their skin.

One changed colour
when embarrassed.

That was adorable.

One had no word
for man or woman.

Another had twelve.

Another asked
which one I was.

I said:

"Complicated."

They said:

"Good."

[pause]

I liked that planet.

[BUILD — THE LITTLE WINDOW]

[gated drums soften]

[Prophet — more sincere:]

We called beauty

a narrow little window

because it was the only one

we'd ever looked through.

Then the stars
opened doors.

And there you were.

Not familiar.

Not expected.

Not less.

Just...

Beautiful
in a language
I hadn't learned yet.

[pause]

Also—

your scales
look incredible
in this lighting.

[GLITCH-TAR SOLO — INTERSTELLAR SHORE LEAVE]

[big melodic guitar solo]

[synthwave pads]

[sax answers Glitch-tar]

[brief radio transmissions drift through the solo]

[BRIDGE — LOVE, LUST, CURIOSITY]

[half-time neon groove]

[Prophet:]

Love is love.

Lust is lust.

Curiosity
has excellent travel benefits.

[pause]

I don't need you
to resemble me.

I don't need your body
to fit a diagram
someone drew on Earth.

I need you
to be you.

Interesting.

Alive.

Interested.

And preferably—

[pause]

looking at me
like that again.

[FINAL CHORUS — BEAUTY HAS NO HOME PLANET]

[maximum arena lift]

I like what evolution
did with you!

Soft or scaled,
bright or blue,

furred or feathered,
armored too—

the stars kept finding
something new!

Male, female,
neither, both—

names that Earth
has never known—

I like what evolution
did with you!

Beauty
has no home planet!

I like what evolution
did with you!

Every world
rewrites the view!

If the universe
had billions of years—

look what it learned
how to do!

[POST-CHORUS — THE STARS HAVE EXCELLENT TASTE]

[spectral doubles]

Soft.

Scaled.

Feathered.

Furred.

Every lovely shape
the stars have learned.

Warm.

Strange.

Bright.

New.

I like what evolution
did with you.

[OUTRO — WHAT'S YOUR TYPE?]

[music falls to synth bass + soft guitar]

[Prophet:]

So...

what's my type?

[pause]

Intelligent.

Consenting.

Interesting.

[looks around]

And devastatingly pretty.

[pause]

That's not
narrowing it down,
is it?

[alien radio chirp]

[Prophet — smiling:]

Good.

[final sax note]

[Glitch-tar harmonic]

[end of line.]

5606/7500

[genre: 80s neon synth-rock Patchwave / glam-pop seduction anthem / electro-funk space romance / midnight new-wave sermon] [tempo: midtempo neon strut; steady 80s groove with bigger arena lifts in the choruses] [tone: seductive, playful, affectionate, curious, open-minded, glamorous, sincere beneath the innuendo] [vocal style: solo middle-aged male Prophet; warm seductive baritone, smooth melodic verses, playful spoken flirtation, sly breaths, confident hooks, occasional higher rock lifts; spectral self-harmonies only] [instrumentation: huge gated drums, glossy analog synths, melodic synth bass, funky palm-muted guitar, shimmering chorus guitar, sax accents, expressive Glitch-tar leads] [effects: alien-radio fragments, stereo whispers, tape flutter, neon hum, soft vocoder ghosts, subtle reality skips, brief transmission glitches] [TRANSMISSION — FIRST CONTACT] [soft radio scan] [low synth pulse] [unfamiliar voice fragments, unintelligible] [Prophet — amused:] New world. New sky. New atmosphere. [pause] New people. [pause] Oh. Well. Hello. [beat enters] [VERSE I — SOFT] [smooth electro-funk groove] You stepped through violet rain with silver in your fur, eyes catching every neon sign like they were made for you. Soft enough to lose my fingers in— hypothetically. Purely observational. Mostly. You smiled with something almost human, then laughed in frequencies I couldn't name. And somehow that only made it better. Evolution has excellent taste. [PRE-CHORUS — WHAT'S YOUR TYPE?] [synths rising] Someone asked me: "What's your type?" [pause] I thought about it. Longer than expected. Then I looked around. [beat] Yes. Apparently. [CHORUS — I LIKE WHAT EVOLUTION DID WITH YOU] [huge glossy 80s lift] I like what evolution did with you. Soft or scaled, strange or smooth, every beautiful shape the stars could choose. Male, female, somewhere between, somewhere completely off the screen— I like what evolution did with you. Oh, baby— the universe has been busy. [POST-CHORUS — SIX EYES] [music drops to synth bass] [Prophet — low:] Six eyes? [pause] Darling... that's just six opportunities to catch me staring. [sax flourish] [VERSE II — HARD] [groove gets dirtier] Scales like polished midnight, warm where I expected cold. Chitin catching ultraviolet like lacquered alien gold. Claws? I'm listening. Tail? Apparently it has opinions. Crest rising when you laugh at me— that's either flirting or a warning. [pause] I can work with either. [Glitch-tar stab] [PRE-CHORUS II — THE UNIVERSE DID THAT] You don't look like anything Earth ever taught me to call beautiful. Good. Earth wasn't finished with the definition. Neither were the stars. [CHORUS II — EVERY FORM] I like what evolution did with you. Feathered bright or armored through, fur and scales in combinations nobody on Earth ever knew. He, she, They, something new— give me a minute, I'll learn the words for you. I like what evolution did with you. The galaxy is showing off again. [SYNTH BREAK — PURELY SCIENTIFIC] [bright arpeggiator] [radio chirps] [Prophet:] Four hands. [pause] Fascinating. [pause] No, no. This is science. [longer pause] Extremely underfunded science. [synth bass slides] [VERSE III — NO HUMAN BOX FITS] [midnight new-wave pulse] One world had voices like thunder. One could sing through their skin. One changed colour when embarrassed. That was adorable. One had no word for man or woman. Another had twelve. Another asked which one I was. I said: "Complicated." They said: "Good." [pause] I liked that planet. [BUILD — THE LITTLE WINDOW] [gated drums soften] [Prophet — more sincere:] We called beauty a narrow little window because it was the only one we'd ever looked through. Then the stars opened doors. And there you were. Not familiar. Not expected. Not less. Just... Beautiful in a language I hadn't learned yet. [pause] Also— your scales look incredible in this lighting. [GLITCH-TAR SOLO — INTERSTELLAR SHORE LEAVE] [big melodic guitar solo] [synthwave pads] [sax answers Glitch-tar] [brief radio transmissions drift through the solo] [BRIDGE — LOVE, LUST, CURIOSITY] [half-time neon groove] [Prophet:] Love is love. Lust is lust. Curiosity has excellent travel benefits. [pause] I don't need you to resemble me. I don't need your body to fit a diagram someone drew on Earth. I need you to be you. Interesting. Alive. Interested. And preferably— [pause] looking at me like that again. [FINAL CHORUS — BEAUTY HAS NO HOME PLANET] [maximum arena lift] I like what evolution did with you! Soft or scaled, bright or blue, furred or feathered, armored too— the stars kept finding something new! Male, female, neither, both— names that Earth has never known— I like what evolution did with you! Beauty has no home planet! I like what evolution did with you! Every world rewrites the view! If the universe had billions of years— look what it learned how to do! [POST-CHORUS — THE STARS HAVE EXCELLENT TASTE] [spectral doubles] Soft. Scaled. Feathered. Furred. Every lovely shape the stars have learned. Warm. Strange. Bright. New. I like what evolution did with you. [OUTRO — WHAT'S YOUR TYPE?] [music falls to synth bass + soft guitar] [Prophet:] So... what's my type? [pause] Intelligent. Consenting. Interesting. [looks around] And devastatingly pretty. [pause] That's not narrowing it down, is it? [alien radio chirp] [Prophet — smiling:] Good. [final sax note] [Glitch-tar harmonic] [end of line.]

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