Target marketing, advertisement, genres; divisions within our sound. Where we see unification, you see profit margins. You attempt to define our song. Mass produce it. Sell it under the name of your latest heartthrob poster child. Rape and abuse our sound until it is degraded to a cry for cash, a resonance enslavement. With your various ‘creations’ you transition our people into dutiful followers. And then you start over.
In your quest to categorize then advertise every pressure wave in the audible range, you will encounter a resistance. We are the resistance, we are the priceless ‘it’ that you so desperately desire to sell. We will terrorize your sound waves, destroying the divisions you have created. We will do so with the very chains you have shackled us in. Through your eyes, another DJ fucking nobody, one more tormented teen rocker. In our vision, a shaman, an usher unto another life. Until the day freedoms drum pounds through your soul, may your god have mercy on thou ears.