NEUROBANGERZ, Vol. 1 - ILL-FATED

Before there was a series, there was a basement lab and one man who refused to leave it. ILL-FATED had been feeding the machines for weeks: brains floating in green jars, scopes twitching with waveforms nobody had programmed, cables thick as arteries running from the walls straight into the decks. Somewhere along the way the experiment stopped needing him to be alive.

By the time anyone looked in, the skin on his face had gone the colour of the fluid in the tanks and his jaw was showing through. He didn't notice. He was too busy riding the faders while the mixer itself began to melt, molten light dripping off the edge of the console and pooling on the floor in time with the snare. The biohazard sign on the wall was not a warning. It was a tracklist.

What came out of that room was the first dose: forty cuts of dubs, IDs and bootlegs, from Follow Me to a Raffaella Carrà flip nobody asked for and everybody needed. This is where NEUROBANGERZ started. Patient zero. Everything that followed caught it from here.