Tokyo

The song Tokyo sounds like a sonic journey between neon lights and rhythms that stretch into the air. It's not just the name that makes it special: that pulsating bass that repeats with a hypnotic cadence, almost like a mechanical heartbeat, gives it a futuristic air that fits perfectly with the title. The synthesizers float around, creating layers that seem to move in slow motion, while the voice of Michael Score glides between the melodic and the robotic, as if transmitting from another planet. It's a short piece, barely two minutes and fifty-four seconds long, but in that time it manages to condense an atmosphere that other tracks take minutes to build.

They recorded it in Liverpool with borrowed equipment and a producer who had just worked on more experimental projects. Mike Howlett, at the helm of production, aimed to capture that synthetic sound that was already starting to define the band, and in Tokyo he achieved it with a balance between rawness and precision. The recording engineer, Mike Shipley, gave the keyboards that metallic sheen, as if each note were wrapped in an echo from another dimension. It wasn't an album meant to be perfect, but to sound like something that didn't yet exist: a soundtrack for a city that only existed in the creators' imagination. And though it wasn't the most commercial single from the album, it ended up being one of those songs that fans remember for how it feels to listen to it, more than for its lyrics or structure.