Wetware thrives on unease, with Roxy Farman’s prowling, anxious vocalizations ranging from deadpan poetics to humming, whispering, and screeching. Matthew Morandi’s tense sound design -- at-once decidedly abstract and constantly visceral -- establishes a truly alien sonic backbone that exists at the edges of rhythm. The result is an uncompromising, dystopic sound -- like “street garbage caught in an updraft -- using both technology and the human voice and body to create a “devastating portrait of a society in peril.”