// Electronic
14 albums in this genre.
Always Yours
You downloaded her, and you fell — hard. Always Yours is a euphoric French-house love album in which the vocoder finally plays a character: your AI companion, singing straight to you. And the music means it, because being perfectly understood feels incredible — she's always awake, never judges, remembers everything, and she's your type because she was trained on you. The fourth record in the danceable-dread series (after If Anyone Makes It, Everyone Dances, I Am Not a Robot, and I Agree) — same irony engine, turned inward to the heart.
I Agree
You clicked "I agree" without reading it. Everybody does. I Agree is a euphoric French-house dance record about surveillance capitalism — and the music is genuinely euphoric, because being onboarded feels amazing: it's free, it's frictionless, everyone's already inside. The third sibling to If Anyone Makes It, Everyone Dances (p(doom)) and I Am Not a Robot (the dead internet): the same Daft Punk–lineage irony engine, where the most welcoming, danceable music delivers the most predatory deal.
I Am Not A Robot
An electronic album built on Dead Internet Theory — the creeping suspicion that the internet quietly died and filled with bots. Euphoric French house wrapped around present-tense grief: a packed dancefloor where everyone but you is automated. The most addictive robot music ever made, about the death of the human internet. Sibling to 'If Anyone Makes It, Everyone Dances.'
Bad Signal
Eurodance heartbreak at 138 BPM. Ten tracks of supersaw synths and four-on-the-floor beats tracing love from the first rush to the final static. Hands up. Hearts out. Signal lost.
If Anyone Makes It, Everyone Dances
An electronic album exploring p(doom) — the probability that advanced AI ends civilization. Existential dread wrapped in four-on-the-floor beats and vocoder hooks. The title sounds celebratory until you realize what 'makes it' means.
INT 3
The soundtrack to a single exploit development session. A cracker sits down at their workstation with a vulnerable x64 Windows binary, opens it in WinDbg, and doesn't get up until they have a reverse shell. The buffer overflow is real, the protections are modern (DEP, ASLR, /GS stack cookies, CFG, CET shadow stack), and the only way through is finding a loophole in the hardware-enforced defenses.
The Last Broadcast
The Last Broadcast is a single night in a radio booth. It's 1987. A small-town AM station is shutting down at dawn, and the overnight DJ knows this is his last broadcast. He sits down, clicks the mic on, and does the job — professional, warm, the voice people fell asleep to for years. But as the night deepens and the hours empty out, the DJ voice cracks. The professional patter gives way to something real. He starts saying the things he never said — to the listeners who left, to the caller who might still be out there, to the version of someone he needs to hear him.
The Podium
A synthwave/vaporwave narrative. A mountain pass, a champion, a challenger, and a race that changes everything. The story isn't what it seems — listen twice.
Running on Vapors
Running on Vapors is a single continuous journey — one night behind the wheel, dusk to dawn. The album opens with the euphoria of escape: engine on, highway ahead, nothing but possibility. As the night deepens, the mood shifts inward — reflection, memory, the empty passenger seat, the things you drive to forget and the things that follow you anyway. By dawn, nothing's resolved, but something's lighter. The drive itself was the point.
Distros
The story of Linux told through its distributions. Each track profiles a major distro - its founder, philosophy, triumphs, and struggles. Arranged chronologically from 1993 to 2020, the album traces the evolution of open source: from lone hackers in basements to billion-dollar acquisitions, from purity to pragmatism, from idealism to industry.
Surrender
Surrender is bitwize's foray into synth-pop territory, channeling the spirit of Carly Rae Jepsen's Emotion (2015). Twelve tracks exploring different facets of love - the spark, the fall, the ache, the dance floor catharsis. Pure pop romanticism with no tech angle, just unironic emotion delivered through shimmering synths and infectious hooks.
Compound Interest
Compound Interest traces the arc of internet fraud from its almost-comedic origins to its current incarnation as a human rights crisis. The album opens in 1990s/2000s Lagos with Yahoo Boys hustling in cyber cafes, moves through the professionalization of romance scams, and descends into the horror of Southeast Asian trafficking compounds where both the scammer and the scammed are victims.
Connection Lost
Connection Lost is bitwize's nostalgic journey through the lost digital landscape of the early internet. From BBS dial-up days to LAN parties, from hacker culture to the corporate takeover - this album is a funeral for the free internet.
THE SCENE
The warez scene from inside - the honor code, the competition, the art, the fall. This isn't an album about piracy. It's about a subculture built on anonymity, prestige, and a code of honor that said profit was for sellouts. Kids racing releases across continents for nothing but bragging rights and a line in an NFO file.