Monoder. Born in the cold north among industrial warehouses, people wearing only gray and random rabbits crossing the streets. His home town has two-lane streets which were made for the mass movement that never happened. Physically close to civilization but mentally light years away. With the economic regression hitting hard, the town is filled with unemployed and old people wandering the streets and trying to find out what went wrong. Like zombies of a mental desert. Monoder. Though the name sounds familiar, he has nothing to do with Italodisco or Electropop. The music, as the name, is filled with cold, stripped down and hypnotic atmospheres. Taking you on a trip filled with hunger, cold breeze, forests and frozen tundra. The studio is on the roof-level of abandoned rubber factory, where disillusioned entrepreneurs try to get their daily bread doing what ever. Moist pushing from the sealing and walls. Water dripping during the mixdown. Someone pulling cargo in the hallway... Once filled with work and workers, the factory is now filled with random noises and the sense of Monoder.