You have a choice. You can hide. In your stuffy living cells. From the rain. From the noise out there. From the glaring hell of the billboards.

Or you tune in. Face the lizard broadcast.

Hirschmilch Radio. Ultrahocherhitzt 10. Host: DJ baq.

He is not a man. He is a sound sheriff. A hunter in the shadows of the ether. He fishes the forgotten, crashed sounds from the data stream. The worn-out souls of synthesizers. The eavesdropped dreams of drum machines.

This session is not a concert. It is an interrogation. A glaring, pulsating interrogation of your senses. A soundtrack for replicants searching for their own memories. For bounty hunters in the mire of the city.

You have heard all these sounds before in your dreams. Now they are back. And they are more dangerous than ever.

Ultrahocherhitzt 10. Tonight. Eight p.m. Electronic Channel.

When the neon lights begin to bleed.

Turn on your radio. See things you shouldn’t see.

DJ baq. Only on Hirschmilch Radio.

All these sounds will be lost… like tears in rain.