You have the right to go to outer space....

When I was little, my dad was known to occasionally break out his home-planetarium kit.  A tiny black orb etched with pin points through which lights shone, illuminating a beige starscape on the living room ceiling.  My dad would talk us through the various constellations, using a pointer that, working on the same principle as the bat signal, was simply a little flashlight with a red arrow stuck over the lens.  A good night's fun for a family with no TV.

I also remember the trips to local science museums, the moments of anticipation before the planetarium's dome darkened and filled with the deep resonant monotone of narrators elaborating ancient celestial dances.  In the dim light before the show, the planetarium echoed with whispering synthesizers, phasered bells, and vocoded soft jazz.  A melancholy calm enveloped my excitement, as I waited to lose myself in the darkness between the stars.

Now, in some way in homage to those evenings, I find myself drawn to the quaint futurism of the music below. Dance to the sounds of hearts beating out a rhythm into the lonesome infinity of deep space.    

Here's some evocative planetarium disco.  

Not to be confused with this.