Young artist, Globi....
Starting with a recording, made in China, of chanting children, we were led to reconsider the core of the sonic matter.
The shuffle of the Dictaphone was producing an oppressing background hum, which was a reminder of the intimate sensations experienced there, where nursery rhymes had turned into a monstrous brouhaha.

This saturation of overenthusiastic voices came to trigger a sickly state that I have tried to replicate here