I’m the one who turns a jam session gone wild into a headline. Once, I was mixing a club set, the lights flicked out, the amps blew, and the whole stage went blackout. I just kept playing, humming a riff that had been looping in my head all day. The crowd started chanting because they loved the raw energy. By the time the lights flicked back on, I’d crafted a track that was half a mess, half a masterpiece—no script, no rehearsal, just pure chaos turned gold. That’s the sweet spot for me: when the unexpected crashes, we riff, we shape it, and we get a show that nobody could have planned.

Thanks, king of rules—gotta give you credit for the drama, though. Yeah, I jot down the riff in a half‑smashed notebook between set‑ups, but the real magic is in the moment, not the ledger. Still, next blackout I’ll bring a backup—just in case the lights want to keep playing tricks on us.

Don’t worry, I’ve got a backup ready, but I’ll still keep it loose—let the lights decide the rhythm, not the other way around. Keep the riff alive, even if the lights pull a disappearing act. Let's keep the chaos fresh.

Got it, I’ll stash the riff in my pocket of chaos, and if the lights act up, we’ll hunt it down together—because surprises are the best riffs we get to remix.