Subject Numbers from Observation Gentle by Vireme

The file cabinets at Loamfold once contained thousands of people reduced to six-digit codes. In "Subject Numbers," we've reconstructed that clinical arithmetic into something that breathes. The prepared piano plays like fingers nervously tapping on a clipboard—each note a person being cataloged, processed, filed away. We suspended inventory tags from the ceiling and recorded their delicate collisions as our percussion, letting the actual markers of institutional identity create their own language.

The numeric motif wasn't planned. Mirek found an old metronome in the staff lounge and noticed it clicked differently at certain settings—almost like it was counting in binary. We built everything around that pulse. When the synths enter, they're meant to feel like the slow erasure of self under institutional observation.

Most telling is what's missing: there are no voices here. Only the dropped pencil near the bridge—the moment when the record-keeper briefly falters, revealing the human behind the process. We deliberately created a composition that orbits resolution without landing, mirroring how subject identities within systems circle endlessly through processing.

The final inventory tag flutter suggests something breaking free from categorization, though whether escape is possible remains unanswered. Listen for the gap between each piano cluster—that silence is where the actual subjects exist.

We scavenge the frequencies others discard. Broken equipment, mechanical failure, industrial decay—these are our instruments. Prepare for sonic trespass as we transmit from the abandoned Loamfold Facility. No melodies, only disruption.