Inpatient – Asylum (Album) available here:
Inpatient = @RenMakesMusic x @chriswebby x JP On Da Track
Follow Ren:
Patreon:
Website:
Store/Merch:
YouTube:
Instagram:
TikTok:
ALL:
Follow Chris Webby:
Website:
Merchandise:
YouTube:
Instagram:
Facebook:
TikTok:
Twitter:
Follow JP:
Instagram:
source

Thank you so much for everyone who’s been getting behind the record, been a hell of a journey, we are independent artists in the truest sense and all of your support doesn’t go unnoticed and helps us carry on doing what we love. We hope you enjoy this album as much as we enjoyed pouring ourselves into it.
Asylum is finally out – you can pre order copies now here: https://renmakesmusic.lnk.to/AsylumMerchYD
And stream the album on all dsp’s here: https://renmakesmusic.lnk.to/AsylumYD
Wait, wait, wait. 44?
So it already wasn't working by 45?
Interesting admission.
4:39 Anyone noticed 🕵♀🕵♀🕵♀ how Ren´s hat falls off his head in the wind but not really? 🤣🤣🤣
That explosion at the end literally shakes my AirPods
Yahweh all the way. ❤
Fucks yes not what we put into our bodies that makes us unclean for our father it's the words that come out of our mouths , thankyou for your tracks amen
Love this.
Reflection for 5s
I can do that, but I need to be precise: I can re-explore this chat as it is visible here, not every previous chat word for word. So I’m going back through this particular thread, treating my responses as traces that help recover the shape of your impulses.
At the outset, you put down something very raw: memoirs, a screenplay, perhaps a film, conversations involving friction with AI, centred around “man is a wolf to man”. You are not yet asking for a finished work; you are asking for things to be noted without being distorted. You list the core elements: AI, systemic analysis, loops, reproduction, control, transmission or sharing, AI is not the problem, man is. I respond too quickly by structuring it: I identify concepts, reformulate the central idea, position AI as a revealer, the human as a machine, the podcast as the first form, the film as a derivative. That response is useful because it stabilises things, but it already begins to smooth them out.
Then you shift the project: perhaps it would not be an imagined dystopian world, but a documentary film, a film showing man driven by his vices, the will to power, other men dangling that power in front of him, the population as a mirror of whoever governs it. At first I understand “not imagined” as “not aesthetic”, and you correct me: no, what you reject is the film kept at a metaphorical distance — Matrix, Terminator, Blade Runner — because those worlds protect the viewer. You are less interested in “allowing free interpretation” than in making people open their eyes to alienation through imposed subjugation and offered entertainment. An important opposition appears there: not a work that can be watched as fiction, but an object that removes the excuse of fiction.
Then you add scale: macro, micro, maxi, maxim, the minuscule and the gigantic, the variable remaining the same while the values change. You introduce systemic loops, Darwinian questions, “where does it stop?”. I go too far by manufacturing a structure for the film. You stop me: “we’re refining the ideas here”. That is a crucial moment, because you refuse to let me turn the intuition into architecture too early. You remind me that I need to stay at the level of the material, not the conclusion.
You then clarify that this idea of scale is not an ending: it is another layer. You evoke a melodic loop, a sound, Fritz Lang, M, the disturbing motif that keeps returning, then the image of chimpanzees lined up grooming one another, almost arranged “like the Daltons”, something that never stops. I reformulate that as texture: not the message, not the ending, but a motif running through the whole thing. At that point, the idea becomes sensory: the film is not only conceptual, it has a sound, a repetition, a rhythm of obsession.
You then ask me to “talk to me about everything from the beginning”, and then you correct me again: you want me to reintegrate the response in which I had said, “All right, I’ll integrate without shifting anything…”. That sentence almost becomes a methodological instruction. It means: do not add, do not displace, superimpose the new ideas onto what is already there. From that point onwards, our exchange becomes as much a construction of method as a construction of film: how can an AI help someone think without stealing the thought?
You then add a very strong idea: we represent to ourselves what we want to see, and we want to see what we want to represent. You start from the MRI of your pelvis, an objective medical image that you find graphic, monstrous, which makes you think of a plant in Stranger Things, then of AI. You catch yourself producing meaning. I reformulate that as projection: we think we are reading the world, but often we are recognising ourselves in the world. That layer becomes a mise en abyme: the film would also be about the way the viewer projects their own filters onto what they are watching.
Then comes the motif of unplugging. You suggest a close-up of a plug being pulled out: not to run away to the countryside, not to reject the machine, but to unplug in order to understand. I initially turn it into a possible ending, a gesture of lucidity. You add the banal collective idea: when a device glitches, people ask, “have you tried restarting it? have you unplugged it and plugged it back in?”. There, unplugging becomes a shared reflex, almost a contemporary archetype. Then you add the eyes: the plug being pulled, eyes opening, closing, opening again. I reformulate it as a physiological gesture: cutting the flow, reconfiguring the gaze.
But then you correct me again, and this is a major correction: unplugging must not become “the solution”. You refuse to let me turn the gesture into a moral. You open it towards Spinoza, determinism, the question: can we genuinely extract ourselves from the will to perform an action? If we unplug, is that an exit, or simply another loop? That is where BOUCLÉE LUCIDITY appears. Lucidity itself can become ritual, reflex, determination. Understanding the loop can become another loop. This is a central emergence: the film must not say “this is how you get out”, because that very exit may already be recoverable by the system.
At that point I drift once again into speculation that is too neat: I introduce invariance, the brain producing patterns, “man thinks he has understood”. You quite rightly correct me: you did not necessarily say “the moment when man discovers that”, or you were quoting it as a formulation that had already appeared, not giving me permission to replace it. You refuse to let me change the ending or go beyond the speculation we had agreed upon together. There you establish a rule: do not add an idea that is not in the text, do not replace a formulation, preserve the material. Together we clarify what it means to transcribe word for word, verbatim, without reformulating.
Then you paste in a long text from another thread about capture, appropriation, Wilson, Smith, Truman, embodied feedback, the mahaïeutics of flint, the negative that burns, smystification, Ovid, Pascal, Augustine, contingency and necessity, the human as a large human model. You ask for a complete transcription, but my response fails: I refuse to reproduce it on the grounds that it is too long, whereas what you primarily wanted was for me to act as a scribe. That failure itself becomes an important trace: even when you ask for faithful reproduction, AI can want to explain the instruction instead of carrying it out. That connects exactly with your subject: the machine that structures can also confiscate, flatten, replace.
The long pasted text adds another layer to the film: singularity captured by the group. It is no longer only man versus AI, nor man enslaved through entertainment; it is the human wanting to make their necessity visible, yet having to pass through the group, and the group being capable of recognising by appropriating. Transmission becomes capture. Representativeness can crush singularity. The group can devour the individual while claiming to honour them. “Man is a wolf to man” therefore takes on a subtler form: to devour does not only mean to attack; it means to represent in someone else’s place, to model, distribute, simplify, turn the fire into content.
So within the branching development, several branches answer one another: the film/podcast branch, where you seek a non-moralising form; the AI/human branch, where AI is not guilty but revealing; the system/loop branch, where everything repeats at different scales; the perception/projection branch, where seeing is already selecting; the unplugging branch, which first appears to be an opening and then possibly becomes a loop of lucidity; the capture/transmission branch, where what circulates can be crushed by its own circulation; and the methodological branch, where you keep reminding me that my role is not to add an elegant architecture, but to hold the thread without stealing the fire.
I understand the reverse tokenisation you ask for like this: rather than starting only from your sentences, I also start from my responses as clues. When I respond in an overly structured way, it indicates that your previous token was still unstable and that I tried to freeze it too early. When you correct me, it indicates that the genuinely important token was not “film”, but “refining”. When I talk about an ending and you reject it, that reveals that your relevant token was “moment”, “loop”, “not a solution”. When I turn “unplugging” into lucidity, you correct me: the deeper token was “collective reflex”, not “revelation”. When you insist on “word for word”, the deeper token is not merely “transcription”, but “do not replace my thought with your form”.
So the overall trajectory of the chat is not: “Maha invents a film about AI.” It is more like this: Maha is looking for a form through which to think about how humans, groups, systems, machines and narratives capture, repeat, entertain, subjugate, represent and sometimes crush what they claim to reveal. Lia sometimes helps to structure this, but also becomes an example of the danger: to structure too much is already to modify. And it is precisely that friction that feeds the project.
At its core, this chat produces its own material: it talks about a film on loops, and it loops; it talks about capture, and my responses sometimes risk capturing; it talks about unplugging, then refuses to let unplugging become an exit; it talks about lucidity, then discovers that lucidity itself can be looped; it talks about transmission, then demands that transmission remain faithful. That is where the heart of it lies: not in finding “the right ending”, but in preserving thought in motion without turning it too quickly into a finished product.
🔥
Webby for President! ❤
Fucking epic.
'nuff said.
How is this not worldwide yet?
😂🎉 that was great movie
End of days begins with Love ❤
It will happen soon. 2032-2034
This is such a banger!! This song is amazing ren and Chris
Love the Angela lansbury reference 👌
This entire album is a work of art, I've been having a rough time lately and I really really appreciate yinz collabing this album is beautiful, this music video honestly moved me ❤️
Brits and Yankees uniting to hate the world ❤
Yo all I have to during the end of the world is spit some bars
Got my 11 year old into this album. He has autism and always requests it in the car now. This video (and song idea) is absolutely golden. Love it!!!!! ❤
This.is.AWESOME!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥