"... really messed up. Kinda early Throbbing Gristle. Performance art, dude. I got their box set. Hang on. (...) Fuck, my Mum's always on at me to clean up my fucking bedroom. (Bangs on wall) Alright, Mum! I heard you the first time. (...) Anyways, it's 180-gram vinyl, man. Which reminds me: my art history essay's due Friday. Have you seen the earrings that bitch wears? (...) Nuh, I'm writing about my field recordings. I'm using a ribbon mic. It's awesome. I link it to, um, I can never pronounce his name ... that's it: Zen — ark — us. His math shit is heavy. Real noise, not some stupid metal band. (...) Your camera? I'm shooting photos for the insert to my next CD. (...) Yeah, like those I took of the lake out of focus. (...) I'd love to go to China and take some landscape shots. Do some field recordings too. (...) Idiot. She's Japanese, not Chinese. Yeah, she did some vocals for me. (...) Yeah, she' s got plenty of cracks. But the earlier version of MAX is the best. (...) Philip Brophy? Yeah, I think I heard of him somewhere. He does anime or some shit doesn't he?"