Seeing Michael Gira's Swans was surreal
there was no music, no rhythm, and no timbre
in the hall. Only a layered wall of sound
and intense noise; an avant-garde carnival of
dissonance, where rapture and rupture
became a singular one.
For the first time, I saw people
wearing hearing-protection in a gig
and I went through a strong
post-show cognitive dissonance
healing to the realization that music
is never supposed to be representational,
or may be all forms of Art.
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.