Lost in Space

Yesterday I had my teeth operated on. Root canal surgery is a new type of pain for me. A very lovely pharmacist recommended soluble codeine and paracetamol. It nearly works, but not quite enough. It's a cross between dissolution and nervous entropy. The pain that is, not the codeine.

n.b. At the time of writing, the quality has changed, now like stabbing nerve pain but scraped through time.

With this concoction in my system, I drive to Farnborough, to the Mod Cafe. A grade one listed, ex wind tunnel. There are a load of electronic music enthusiasts here, and they are making a lot of noise. This is not techno, or drum and base. It's all designed to explore the acoustical qualities of this cathedral of turbulent counter culture.

To give you a sense of the space, and its character, here is a short video.

I feel quite dislocated as it is. And the afternoon session is headlined by a girka / nepoliese band (1st Naumati Baja Gulmi UK)
collaborating with these electronic music peeps. My seriality senses are driven into overdrive.

But this event is not about the music in the end, it's about spacial acoustics. Almost any noise can gain meaning if you put enough reverb on it. The key is to tune into the vibrations and be led by them.

Throughout the day, the best moments happen when the musicians tap into or happen to reverberate in accordance with the space's highly unique concrete architecture, its characteristics persuading the sounds produced to clarify its meaning to us.

During these moments, we are lost in space. We all resonate in gratitude of them. Or that is my perception anyway.