Wave of Babies

If "CAFO" is architecture, "Wave of Babies" is weather. The track begins with a calm that turns out to be temporary — there's a deliberateness to the opening passage that reads, in retrospect, as the stillness before something breaks. When the full arrangement arrives, Abasi deploys his two-hand tapping technique in a way that makes the guitar sound briefly like multiple instruments simultaneously, notes cascading in patterns where the melody and its counterpoint blur together. The rhythmic displacement throughout the track creates a sensation of perpetual arrival — you're always slightly uncertain where the downbeat is, not in a way that produces anxiety but in a way that keeps full attention engaged. Unlike some technical metal that uses difficulty as a kind of wall, this track invites curiosity about its own structure: you want to understand how it works, to locate the logic beneath the texture. The middle section breathes with an unexpected spaciousness, giving the return of the main material more emotional force. There's something almost playful in the title and occasionally in the music itself — a sense that Abasi and Reyes understand that technical virtuosity and a sense of humor about music are not incompatible. This is a track for people who already love complexity and want more of it, who will return to it many times to notice details that were invisible the first pass.