SCI-FI TECHNO: Transmission #2

A Dalek Trip through the Aesthetics of 3TØN

There is no precise memory of entry. Only the aftereffect of having crossed a threshold—into a space outside of sequence, outside of narrative. The transmission was already active.

SCI-FI #2 is the second instalment in Corvin Dalek’s SCI-FI series—mixed as part of his ongoing 3TØN project, which explores the intersection of techno structure, visual distortion, and speculative form. This is not club music in a conventional sense. This is SCI-FI TECHNO: austere, reduced, exacting.

The mix consists of selected works from March and April 2025. There is no build-up, no breakdown. Only motion. The tempo holds between 136 and 140 BPM. The language is mechanical. Every transition serves architecture, not emotion.

Visually, the set is paired with analog-processed loop structures – monochrome, interrupted by grain, flicker, and decay – assembled into a 70-minute sequenceRendered in cinematic prompts and stitched into a single stream, the result resembles an unearthed ritual—recorded by machines that no longer exist.

3TØN provides the framework. Its sound aesthetics are grounded in modular repetition, sci-fi tropes, and sonic minimalism. But it is not style. It is system.

Dalek’s trajectory through this second SCI-FI TECHNO set is not expressive. It is procedural. The function is exposure.

The mix is a report:
From within the mechanism.
From beneath the form.
A controlled descent into alignment.

SCI-FI #2 – A Report from Within the Machine

The transmission began without signal. No pulse, no path, only a frequency folding into cognition, like a residue from pre-encoded time.

There was no entry. Only the image: a blind planet, marked by rotating structures. Their surfaces matte, etched by radiation. Their movements ritual, precise, silent, repeatable.

At the core: a vertical shaft of unstable light. It breathed.
I entered.
Gravity dislocated. Tempo fixed: 138 BPM.
Above me: rotating lenses.
Below: indeterminate depth.

The figures had no names. Their forms were waveform. Their language looped – toneless, yet instructive. I understood nothing, but complied.

In a chamber – neither club nor temple but a sector – the transmission unfolded.
Modular. Closed-form.
Imagery flickered on non-surfaces:
grain, decay, black-and-white anomalies.
Faces stored in memories that never existed.

It became clear: this was SCI-FI TECHNO.
Not a genre. A condition.

They allowed me to hear.
They allowed me to forget.
They allowed me to store.

Time collapsed. Past encoded. Future unreadable.
Only the present remained operational.

This was Part Two.
There is no progression.
Only the protocol:

Receive the signal.
Restructure the body.
Erase the origin.