with angry cadences, sharp rhythms, and harmonic irregularity this magical group of four told the ripped emotional level behind the impression of a story on a person. The feeling, the sway created a tangible aura of feeling. Dissonant mercurial anti-harmonies rumbled by turns scraping and screeching, clanking and clinking. The swoon and slither of the quartet was at once an un-dead twitch, a hypnotized swirl, and and electric eel. Following the tides of change, the antagonist of the queued bows pulling to fire at the ready and embezzled the mind of its proper sultan. Envy, pure rage, trust, and nerves all entered stage left as the man’s physical being overwhelmed the listener with the man’s physiology. I wanted–i don’t know–to faint? It was like if great pressure on your chest coded as feeling itchy all over the skin. But somehow still i was quite completely transfixed by that feeling. it was dark and erotic and it was eating glass. The feeling transfixed me, and as i got dinner with my visiting mother, the feeling decrescendo’d and subsided. the feint and the pale removed itself to a warmer shade, and i felt better.