The beat goes on, forward into the future, into the darkness. Ever in flux, yet simultaneously constant: the foundation of the night and the tracks, swept up in the wide-open planes. At the bow, a spray of fine melodies; the gull cry of the distorted sounds at the stern. Resom is your boat, your captain. Is the sea swell in your club rougher than usual? Are you being thrown back and forth by billowing bass lines as never before, spattered by the surf from the hi-hats and losing your orientation? Fear not. Trust your captain at the helm. Trust Resom, your woman behind the wheel.