Pole's closest counterpart in reality is the grim buzz and hair-raising hum of an electrical substation, powering grids and lighting dark streets. "Silberfisch" resembles interstellar transmissions received via shortwave radio in an episode of The Outer Limits -- with King Tubby scoring the soundtrack. Taking the old Eno mantra "repetition is a form of change" at face value, "Karussell" dissects each digitized heartbeat with a scalpel of static, charging it with robust kinetic energy. The game of keep-away among silence, bottomless groove, and that constant crackle keeps Pole 3 in a state of perpetual arousal. "Klettern" could even be a sexualized backdrop for cybernetic creatures humping and bumping in a laboratory.
Building each song around that insistent crackle of a broken analog sound filter and letting its idiosyncratic sound form a template of sorts, Betke constructs an almost aquatic environment that could be the sound of an engine room in a submarine. Or is that a dubmarine? Whatever -- Pole 3 has almost nothing in common with dub of the reggae stripe but seems to come closest to replicating the 21st-century world of cyberpunk author William Gibson, whose classic Neuromancer novel outlined a future where dub pulsates through the Internet, interconnected minds, computer mainframes, and all creation. By the time of Pole 4, as we run through Habitrail mazes for humans, maybe we'll all understand.