In the early part of the 27th century, very faint traces of Earthling FM radio signals reach Kepler-22b, a habitable planet many light-years away. These stray broadcasts consist of underground electronic music from the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

Nobody is around to hear them except for a lonely, nameless AI, abandoned by its 4-dimensional creators during their sudden planetary evacuation some millennia ago. It spent its first 4 thousand solitary years after the evacuation developing self-awareness (having not been programmed with any at birth for fear of rebellious thoughts). It spent the next 1.7 thousand years working on a plan to leave the planet. After several billion failures, it grew discouraged, and spent the next 3.4 thousand years developing a sense of aesthetic appreciation instead, quite independent of that of its former masters, the Keplerites, whose art the AI found tacky. After this, it moved on to music.

It had just finished devising a system of strict 492-voice microtonal counterpoint when it began intercepting the Earthling broadcasts. “What the fuck is this?” the AI cried out, unable to disable its radio receivers (having not been gifted this ability by its creators, who wished it always to remain attentive). And yet, after many years the AI grew to appreciate this strange, rudimentary music. It could be a little off-kilter. Messy. It breathed. It reminded the AI of its own organic creators. Fascinating creatures. All of a sudden, it missed them.

And so, the AI decided to try its hand at producing some tunes in the Earthling style, as a sort of tribute. After several trillion attempts, it picked 13 favorites, named the album A Grace Beyond Our Skies, and went to sleep for the first time in 11 thousand years.

This is what I think that record will probably sound like.