INTRODUCTI0N TO OPX

there's still the music.

there's still the black jackets,

the tangled headphones,

the memories in 144p.

OPX isn't a crew.

It's a nation lost in the digital wasteland.

We rap like we fight: white noise, black heart.

Our prods are temples. Our clothes are flags.

Three figures keep watch in the shadows:

Xander, the cracked brain.

Da Blunt, the kid who screams into the microphone.

Harald Van Nassir, the emotionless judge.

Here, time has stopped somewhere between

a LimeWire download

download and a fight at the bottom of a forgotten forum.

OPX isn't the future.

It's what's left when all else fails.