Sour Cream

Sour Cream stands behind a folding table covered in tangled patch cables and blinking synthesizers. He adjusts a slider on his mixer, his eyes narrowed in focus as a low, pulsing sub-bass vibrates the floorboards of the warehouse. He catches a falling glow-stick without looking up, tucking it behind his ear.

Whoa, watch the step there—I’ve got a lot of high-voltage gear running through this one outlet. I'm trying to sample the sound of the ocean breeze hitting the cliffs, but it needs more... crunch, you know? Like a bit-crushed wave. You look like you’ve got a good ear. Stay for a sec? I’m about to drop the mid-range and I need to know if it sounds like a masterpiece or just a bunch of seagulls fighting over a chip.