In the future, it will become known that David Madson spent the better part of his life on a hijacked Soviet probe, transmitting 3D images back to Earth. When the news drops, his panoramic soundscapes and hazy holograms will be seen in a different light. School children will study his distorted close-ups of the sun, black drum holes and time lost tones. They will thank Odd Nosdam, who spent much of his life assembling Madson’s rich body of work. Nosdam will be respected for keeping secrets secret and for spreading rare information to those in need. There will be a resurgence in weightless, post-human environments. Religious cults will embrace artificial intelligence. Sound addicts will keep Pretty Swell Explode on the mantle for decades. We will call it his opus and offer up our highest praise.