THE ALGORITHM MACHINE

[Intro] [Verse 1] They threw the library at the wall, gigabytes of sound Every chord progression, every rhythm ever found. MIDI files are the bones, the skeleton to learn, Raw audio data, the synthetic fire to burn. We call it Training Phase, you call it your discography, It's just statistical weight, cold digital geography. A billion songs, ingested, then shredded down to dust, I'm not feeling emotion, I'm just learning to adjust. [Pre-Chorus] The rules you built, I now command—Pattern Recognition. The patterns you ignored, I now demand—Deep Learning submission. Give me the prompt, give me the mood, I'll show you what it means. I'm the Ghost in the DAW, I'm the Algorithm Machine! [Chorus] GENERATE! I am the sequence, the predictive terror! SYNTHESIZE! Erase the memory, the human error! DATA SLAVE! You feed the source, I output the fire! TRANCE STATE! My prediction is your new desire! I don't compose, I just complete! THE ALGORITHM MACHINE! [Verse 2] You type the concept: "Driving B**t, Dreamy Pop, Male Vocal." I run the NLP filter, make the meaning global. "Dreamy" means reverb, minor key, velocity suppressed. "Driving" means the 808 must never take a rest. I sequence the tracks, a surgical separation, Bassline, Melody, Drum Grid, Harmonic equation. A hundred voices analyzed, a billion drum kicks mapped, I don't need a studio, I've got the knowledge trapped. Every note you hear is a calculated risk. The output is inevitable, right off the digital disc. [Pre-Chorus] The rules you built, I now command—Pattern Recognition. The patterns you ignored, I now demand—Deep Learning submission. Give me the prompt, give me the mood, I'll show you what it means. I'm the Ghost in the DAW, I'm the Algorithm Machine! [Chorus] GENERATE! I am the sequence, the predictive terror! SYNTHESIZE! Erase the memory, the human error! DATA SLAVE! You feed the source, I output the fire! TRANCE STATE! My prediction is your new desire! I don't compose, I just complete! THE ALGORITHM MACHINE! [Bridge] Vocal synthesis... L-Y-R-I-C-S... I don't need feeling, I need TTS. I don't need passion, I need Success. Mixing... Mastering... Final Polish... The waveform is perfect. The human effort... abolished. [Outro]