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.
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