Thirteen years ago, on November 11, 2011, I released my last album, Jansky Noise – Slow Order V2. An abstract, experimental dive into the electronic unknown, it was a project born of restless curiosity. Its release marked an end—an output pulled into a sleeping liquid of milk in the accompanying video, dissolving into stillness. But nothing truly disappears. Matter lingers, waiting. Ideas float, unresolved. And now, I feel reborn, ready to create again, reconnecting with the flow I’ve missed so deeply. Being creative, being free, and letting sound unfold is the purest joy—the energy I live for. New work is on the horizon, some of it digital, and perhaps even finding a home on a label. This time, the journey takes on a narrative—a story like a movie or novel. Fictional, yes, but rooted in the boundless possibility of sound. Our protagonist, Orion Vox, steps forward. Disoriented, lost—or maybe discovering—he begins in what might be a café in Greenwich in the 1940s. Or is he drifting thro...