As you reach the the sound generation devices, you curse as a chip packet attaches itself to your shoe and refuses to part with its prey. Having stopped to rip the polystyrene off, some remains behind and it is with great irritation that you see that they appear to have been mixing Araldite in it, and you now have a pretty permanent addition the sole of your footwear.
The equipment itself is pretty minimal. Sitting on a scrathced old wooden desk, there is a hifi with four speakers attached, a mixer, two drum machines and single, small blue keyboard. It says, "Novation BassStation," in the top right, below an impenetrable row of knobs. This crude looking device, you surmise, must be the source of the madness. Propped up in the corner with one key sellotaped down is a Moog of some description. It appears shot to hell with several of the sliders missing or inclined at unlikely angles.
There is nothing much interesting about this, but you are quite shocked by the extent of the wires. They are everywhere below the desk, going to and from every device, and also to and from several which obviously aren't there. Some are black, some are purple, some are power leads some audio jacks and others phono plugs. 5 pin DIN cables lie all over the place, and 5 are plugged into one small box but you can't work out where they all go, and are afraid of what might happen to your mind if you did.