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In the back room of a studio in North Austin lit only by the glow of computer screens, a producer and singer who calls himself Madd Creole lets out a string of gospel-inflected vocal improvisations. As his voice wavers and slides from note to note, it’s shadowed by a ghostly shimmer from the speakers, giving his soulful crooning a shiny, robotic skin. “It keeps taking my voice to these strange minor notes,” he says afterward. “It’s killing me, almost like having two drummers play at once, but it’s also giving me some new ideas.”
Texas Observer