Enter Re-Animator, a project which draws together fragments of electronics, vocal debris, shattering ice, crowded metro stations, underwater microphones and a deluxe, automated car wash. From the outside this orbiting cloud of noisy shrapnel appears as nothing but a transitory patchwork, doomed to implode towards a neglected corner of Internet 2.0, a broken link, an out-of-date streaming app or abandoned cloud account. But step inside and things get much worse. As you navigate your way through the wreckage, the horizon line begins to tilt and the light begins to fade. Suddenly it’s pouring acid rain. You’re certain it didn’t look this big from the outside. Consider it a type of sound-Tardis, stitched together from lifeless sonic-offal and jolted into life through cheap recording software.