It's a transformation, man. Y'see, Numan's been respected among musical circles for years, so now they gave some of his songs to some fresh new DJs for interpretation. Oh, man, lemme tell you about it. Yeah, I'll take a hit...

Hhhhh... It reminds me of some of them weird 1960s ballets that are getting remixed these days, y'know? Like that kind of techno that pushes the boundaries, driving into, like, minimalism, man. They're drivin' it. Pushin' boundaries, man. They're on the spearhead and they're remixin' Numan! Isn't that a trip!? Yeah... yeah.

It's art, man, art. Think of the abstracts, think of all those fierce brushstrokes transformed into intercrossing beat loops drawn from Numan's motherlode of work. You think Numan was sharp before, dude? This shit is out, man, out. Not out in the next room, I mean out in space. And not at Mars, we're talkin' Jupiter, man. The fuckin' horsehead nebula.

The humanity's like a lonely spark in their machine. You get lost in these tracks, they run over you like waves. They're runnin' a hard, hypnotic groove that sends you straight into some kinda beta state, like those flashy glasses. I hear some house on some of 'em, just enough to get my bootie movin'. Shit, most of 'em's pure beat, man. Even a white man could dance to it. Even a white man with fancy pants on.

Numan's only an echo, man. Just the building blocks, the pieces in the puzzle, the sugar in the lemonade. He's there, at the end of a distant phone line with some wacked- out mixer in between. Nah, it ain't gentle. If it was a dude, it'd be a badass, cut- throat, blind, mean motherfucker, hahaha... It slices, it dices, it don't forgive and tells no lies. Hey, could you get me a beer while you're up, dude?

-James P. Wisdom