the zack page euphemism

*"We don't say what we mean. We play what we imply. And we've been inverting the natural order since... right about now."* ~ Zack Page (Probably) In the chrome-plated lounges of tomorrow's yesterday, where neon hums at 440Hz and the cocktails pour themselves, four sonic cosmonauts have breached the atmospheric ceiling of conventional groove. **KEITH DAVIS** mans the control panel of 88 ivory switches, routing harmonic frequencies through dimensions yet unnamed. His fingers decode the melodic algorithms that keep this vessel from spinning into the void. **PETER DIMERY** pilots the tenor saxophone—that brass telescope trained on distant nebulae of blue and bebop. His transmissions cut through static like a laser through lunar dust. **RYAN PTASNIK** operates the propulsion system: four limbs in perpetual conversation with physics itself, generating the thrust that bends time signatures into submission. And at the helm—against all laws of gravitational hierarchy—**ZACK PAGE** has ascended from the engine room to the captain's chair. The low-frequency specialist. The foundation man. Now calling the shots from the bottom of the sonic spectrum while somehow... on top. *It's unnatural. It's unprecedented. It absolutely works.*