Every so often, I leave the house and go stand in a dark room to watch a band play too loud for the space theyβre in. I hover somewhere near the back, nursing a drink that tastes like regret, surrounded by people pretending not to care. And yetβsomewhere between the false starts, the feedback, and the singer yelling something unintelligibleβI feel strangely grounded. I donβt go often, but when I do, it reminds me that noise can be a kind of communion. Even if the bandβs a mess, itβs their mess, and Iβm here for it.
Concerts / Gigs
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