UNDERGROUND · Issue 6

Scipher Punx’ Dystopique — the Just-in-Case Album

The year is 2113. The incremental control of society has taken full form.

We live in ghettoized cities, saturated with cameras, programmable money units, and a world where every aspect of life has been restricted by way of calculations and monetization.

Scipher Punx is an insurance policy against a reality that feels increasingly near.

The Dystopique album channels everyday discontent into instrumental and lyrical rebellion.

The album’s tenor clamors like sound waves that ricochet off a city’s concrete corporate buildings—the ones with the reflective windows you can’t see through. It reeks of CCTVs, self-preservation, and a fractured society.

It suggests that our drive to self-automate the world led straight to our own entrapment—placing us squarely in the middle of it.

As a listener, prepare for a mashup of drum & bass, hip-hop, house, trap, and glitch, driven by wobbly bass and subterranean rumbles.

Quick Album Run-Through

It opens with “Cyphergrid Collapse,” where you might as well be in a high-speed chase from authorities on a party bus. The next two tracks, “Protocol Breach” and “Terminal Velocity,” extend that frantic energy in their own ways.

“Blackout” delivers the first (short) lyrical display, signaling readiness for a grid collapse. The only question: was it triggered by the elites, or the population themselves? Either way, the message is clear—if the power goes out, the sub-citizen plebs are prepared.

“Neon Wasteland” is an ode to a future-facing rap love ballad. The hook:

“Neon wasteland, neon wasteland We’re the only real thing in a fake land Neon wasteland, neon wasteland Encrypted love, they can’t understand”

It’s followed by “Encrypted Memories,” an early-century-style electronic ballad about hiding your true self in an encrypted digital space. She sings:

“The underground is where we trade The only thoughts that haven’t frayed Pure experience, unrefined The last rebellion of the mind”

From there, acting like an intermission, the album shifts into the cinematic slowdown of the spoken-word “Ghost Protocol.” At track nine comes the abrasive, industrial-rap “He’s—comp—mised,” shadowing a man hunted for “breathing unmonitored air” in a city that’s a “circuit board prison.” Listen closely to see what happens.

The penultimate track, “Zero Day,” is a rare feel-good moment: a secret speakeasy on the 13th floor of an unmarked, abandoned corporate tower with thin, slit windows. It gives the people a moment to reflect on what life was before it grew so messy and untenable. Sung like a chilled-out Johnny Cash over downtempo drums, it’s a chance to remember.

The album closes with “ShadowNet (So You Wanted This Future),” forcing us to look in the mirror. It suggests we got exactly what we asked for:

“You wanted convenience Total access, seamless experience Now the algorithms know Every move before you do”

If This Ever Happens

So just in case we find ourselves in a world where governments overreach, the population at large is reduced to wage slaves, our entire society is controlled by algorithms and automation, we’ve been stripped of our fundamental humanity, and forced by calculated submission to surrender our time and energy on society’s terms rather than retaining any semblance of our own agency—this album is for those moments.

Just in case…if that ever were to happen 😜😉😜😉😜

Enjoy.