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"Every time we try to bridge the gap," Simon shouted over the rising mechanical whine of the Trevor Horn drive, "the sky just starts to scream!"
Simon pulled the lever back, locking the beat into a final, soaring chorus. The Night-Porter shot out of the remix and back into the cold, quiet void of the standard radio edit. The silence was deafening.
"John, keep that low end steady!" Simon yelled. In the engine room, the bass lines were literal steel cables, vibrating so hard they blurred. The ship was no longer just flying; it was being deconstructed and put back together in real-time.
Suddenly, the ship’s gravity flipped. The drum beat doubled. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.