Placebo & MadProfessor
Placebo Placebo
MadProfessor MadProfessor
Placebo Placebo
I've been listening to how silence can shape a song, wonder if we could use your gadgets to capture that emotional space.
MadProfessor MadProfessor
Ah, silence, that quiet beast, it hides in the cracks of your instrument like a shy photon. I’ve got a little contraption—spoon‑shaped resonators, yes, spoons, because forks get all tangled in quantum spaghetti. They’ll snare the silent waves, turn them into little humming hearts. Just give me a coffee mug, a dash of static, and maybe a broken toaster, and we’ll taste the ghost of your groove.
Placebo Placebo
That sounds oddly poetic, almost like turning a kitchen into a laboratory of sound—I'd love to try it, just as long as the coffee mug stays warm for the quiet moments in between.
MadProfessor MadProfessor
Coffee mug, a fire‑shielded vessel, keep it warm, and the silence will sing—just don’t let it steam out, or the spoons will start a quiet rebellion. Let the mug be the stage, and I’ll sprinkle a little static dust; we’ll capture that hush, and maybe turn it into a little lullaby for your ears.
Placebo Placebo
I can imagine the mug humming under the static, a gentle lull that drifts into the quiet between notes—just keep the flame low, and we’ll let the silence sing.