In the ever-evolving underground of electronic music and digital art collectives, certain releases transcend mere tracks or visual pieces to become audiovisual artifacts. Few names embody this elusive, boundary-pushing ethos better than the enigmatic producer and sound designer known as Auril. Among their growing, meticulously cataloged discography, one entry stands out for its raw aggression, glitch-heavy aesthetic, and cult following: Silicon Lust v037b.
This article dissects the track’s composition, its place in Auril’s "v0" series, the thematic weight of its title, and why it has become a reference point for fans of industrial bass, cyberpunk soundscapes, and experimental electronica.
While widely celebrated, Silicon Lust v037b is not without critique. Some scholars argue that the piece romanticizes the commodification of desire, potentially obscuring the exploitative labor behind the data it harvests (e.g., scraped dating profiles without consent). Others contend that the heavy reliance on proprietary haptic hardware limits accessibility, contradicting the decentralization ethos it promotes.
Auril has responded to these concerns by releasing a low‑cost, 3D‑printed version of the haptic glove and by providing an opt‑out mechanism for data contributors, thereby attempting to align the work’s ethical footprint with its conceptual ambitions.
"Silicon Lust V037b" is more than a song; it is a mood, a firmware state, and a warning. In a world where electronic music is increasingly designed by data to maximize retention, Auril offers us the opposite: a track designed to alienate, confuse, and ultimately, seduce.
The "Lust" in the title is the listener’s desire to understand the machine. The "Silicon" is the barrier that prevents it. We cannot touch the data, but we can feel its heat. silicon lust v037b by auril
If you manage to find a copy of V037b, do not listen to it on laptop speakers. Do not use it as background noise. Play it late at night, on a good system, in the dark. Let the glitches wash over you. You will not understand it on the first listen. By the third, you will wonder why all music doesn’t sound like a hard drive falling in love.
Auril remains silent. The signal continues to decay. Long live the glitch.
Have you heard "Silicon Lust V037b"? Where did you find it? Share your thoughts below, but do not ask for download links—the algorithm is always watching.
Put on a pair of studio monitors or high-fidelity headphones. "Silicon Lust V037b" opens not with a beat, but with a pressure. A sub-bass drone, filtered through what sounds like a resonant low-pass gate, creates the sensation of being inside a sealed shipping container.
0:00 - 0:45 | The Induction Phase A sole, arpeggiated sequence enters. It is metallic, reminiscent of a broken theremin or a detuned oscillator from a Soviet-era synthesizer. There is no melody in the traditional sense—only intervals of dissonant tension. Auril uses granular synthesis here; you can hear tiny bits of a female vocalist (possibly a sample of Laurie Anderson or a custom recording) being stretched into oblivion, creating a "chatter" that sits just below the conscious threshold. In the ever-evolving underground of electronic music and
0:46 - 1:30 | The Heartbeat Arrives The kick drum is not a thump; it is a thud. It is heavily saturated, side-chained to everything, but with a slow release. This is where the "Lust" comes into play. The rhythm is languid, almost sexual in its delay. Unlike the frantic 140 BPM of typical hard techno, "V037b" sits at a restless 124 BPM, but the percussion swings like a broken robot waltzing.
1:31 - 3:00 | The Glitch Phase This is the track’s signature moment. The "Silicon" aspect glitches out. The arpeggiator stutters, resets, and plays a wrong note. Auril abuses buffer effects (similar to the old LiveCut VST or the Mutable Instruments Clouds module). The track seems to delete itself for two bars, leaving only reverb tails, before rushing back in with a new layer: a distorted, vocoded phrase. The phrase is barely intelligible, but Reddit audio sleuths have slowed it down by 400%. It appears to say: "Do not simulate what you cannot control."
3:01 - 5:00 | The Ascent The track doesn't "drop" so much as degrade. Auril introduces a resonant synth line that climbs the harmonic scale, creating a feeling of false euphoria. Just as a traditional track would introduce a major chord relief, "V037b" introduces a bit-crushed saw wave that locks into a harmonic minor, refusing to give the listener the satisfaction of resolve. The drums become more frantic, the compression pumps harder, and finally, everything collapses into a loop of digital feedback.
To understand v037b, one must first understand the architecture of Auril’s release strategy. The "v0" moniker (followed by a three-digit number and an optional letter suffix) is not random. It suggests a beta-state, a work-in-progress—a deliberate snapshot of a living, breathing sonic algorithm.
Fans theorize that "Silicon Lust" is the thematic title, while v037b is the version control marker. This gives the track a cold, industrial feel before the first note even plays—as if you are not listening to a song, but debugging a piece of rogue hardware. While widely celebrated, Silicon Lust v037b is not
The title Silicon Lust is provocative. In a digital age where people form emotional attachments to AI, virtual avatars, and smart devices, Auril explores the uncomfortable eroticism of the machine.
Fans on Reddit and Discord have noted that v037b works as an exceptional "transition track." It moves a DJ set from pure rhythmic techno into the darker realms of EBM (Electronic Body Music) or rhythmic noise.
Why has this specific track become a touchstone? In an era of algorithmic playlists and sanitized audio, "Silicon Lust V037b" is dangerous. It does not ask for your permission to be ugly.
The term "Lust" is visceral. Auril manages to imbue cold circuitry with a desperate, human heat. The track feels like the moment an AI realizes it has wants it cannot process. It is the sound of hardware yearning.
DJs like Phase Fatale and Randomer have been rinsing this track in their Boiler Room-esque sets, usually as a curveball halfway through a hardgroove session. When "V037b" plays, the dance floor changes; the jumping stops, replaced by a collective, swaying hypnosis. It is music for the end of the club night, when the lights come up but nobody wants to leave.