the broadcast with the voice taken out
the static, momentumless music as subject instead of environment is somehow terribly disturbing: Hal listened to a few minutes of the stuff and told his brother it sounded like somebody’s mind coming apart right before your ears
Context
Madame Psychosis's absence leaves the radio hour running as pure medium — the ambient static that used to be background promoted to foreground with no one at the mic. Communication stripped all the way down to its carrier signal, and what's left "sounded like somebody's mind coming apart right before your ears": broadcast at degree zero, an address with a channel and a listener but no self behind it. Hal is describing, without knowing it, his own coming interior.