Both instrument and entity, keyboard and cabal; A spectral synthesizer permutating all realms of existence, from Internet to Grave. A voice from the urban wilderness, calling out and drawing in; Into dingy basements and darkened dance clubs with visions of sweaty nights. Sweaty nights of ecstatic apparitions and psychedelic nightmares. But what came first, the Fever, or the Dream?
Heed little the human counterparts of Gold Casio, for they are but vessels, merely mechanisms through which the Disco Gods make known their final decree. Party Forever? “Amen!”
Relinquish the curtains of this reality, strip away the layers of meaninglessness until all that remains are Babes and Bass. Only then will you begin to understand.
AND should you choose to behold Gold Casio, Lo, know thine time has come. For no longer can your arms remain tightly across your chest, nor your feet remain steadfastly planted on the ground.
Possessed by sound and light, tonight you will get down. And you’re probably going to spill your drink.