Blazestriker and The Murder Merchant took me to a Yo La Tengo show at Harlowe's.  I like this band;  they're intelligent, musically deep and beautiful, and cool.  I liked the opening band, 'Why?', and bought their CD, although I have now stopped listening to it, because of a particular line in a particular song, 'eyes like slits in bags of fat/eyes like pissholes in the snow', which, although derived from Beat-poet styles, has plagued me ever since.  Get Out Of My Head!   Why? was talented; BS and MM both liked the music, but hated the singer.  I liked the singer, because I could hear the Ohio in him;  but now, the lyrics are wearing on me — it is not a musical world in which to live, although a visit is warranted.

Yo La Tengo was excellent.  I'm not the dedicated fan that Blaze is;  but I recognized many of the songs, and was amazed by Georgia Hubley's killer-tight drumming.  Ira Kaplan's guitar served as an instrument I have never seen before — very, very strange sounds coming out of that beast.  Bassist James McNew and Georgia would set up steady, pounding, palettes over which Ira would unleash total strangeness, head whipping up and down; what a creative freak.  In a good way.

Near the end of the set, Ira cranked up the amp, and began pushing out Hyper-Feedback.  At first, I was entranced.  Then, it got really, really Loud.  I began to notice the older people in the crowd plugging their ears, so I felt comfortable doing so.  I looked over at the Murder Merchant and Blazestriker, but they were just listening, smiles on their faces. 

Ira then cranked it up even louder.  The feedback became an ear-splitting scream.  The bass started thrumming through my body, making my heart skip — I looked down to see my T-shirt actually vibrate — BS and MM still unconcerned — the screaming guitar ripped through the small club like the hand of a vengeful god.  Some people were in a state of bliss, swaying back and forth in the Rushing Sonic River;  others were beginning to panic, crouch, or hide behind the pillars, like me. 

Finally, I broke.  Blaze and Murder were smiling, swaying — how could this be possible? — I'M GOING TO DIE, said my cells – I ducked, and fled the club.

Outside, a third of the audience was standing around in total Shock and Awe.  We all felt a little wimpy — but how could — what's wrong with my ears — how could BS and MM survive the Sonic Death Wave?  I walked down to the AM/PM and got an ice-cream sandwich, returning just in time for two nice, quiet, Yo La Tengo encores.  The last song — a cover of 'Beautiful World' by DEVO — was excellent.  I still had an auditory nerve or two left, at least enough to appreciate the Lack Of Pain.  My body still hummed with the sonic power it had absorbed.  I was a little jumpy and nervous. I would never be the same again.

To their credit, Blaze and Murder did not mock me.  They admitted it had been Loud, and had seen some flee the Wave — but they were able to ride it, instead of fleeing from it like I had.  Blaze theorized that the sound levels had been set for the cancelled show at the much-larger Empire theater, and that Ira had no idea how loud it was in the smaller Harlowe's.

They say sound can kill. 

I believe it, now.