Driving around downtown with my headphones on doesn’t prevent radio frequencies from providing a disruptive supplement to the sounds coming out of my walkman.
At first it seems an invasion. Then I realize the RFs are creating sounds and patterns not dissimilar to the garden variety of noise cassettes in rotation.
So I hit the stop button and just zone out on the RF inductions for awhile, until I realize they are fucking STRESSING me out. And I realize these noise cassettes are STRESSING me out too. I start wondering what drives people to organize chalkboard sounds and glitches so meticulously. Is it therapeutic, a form of control, tolerance-building? Maybe certain folks live out in the sticks, and therefore crave a little buzz. More likely, they live in NYC or London or some other noise-addled hellhole like that, where they must, like dogs pissing in the grass, mark their turf through their volume and noise, their fashion, style, wit, etc. — what the vaudevillians called “three-sheeting.” Just thinking about all this STRESSES me out, ADDS to my anxiety; “Bramble” is STRESSING me out. Joints are tensed up, heart is pinched, blood flow constricted, thoughts are racing, biofeedback magic… fight or flight. Mission accomplished.
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