So, Le Guess Who?. We strolled around the only wheelchairfriendly concert venue in Utrecht, a massive place with at least seven simultaneous stages. Amongst our group of six we only knew which particular band to avoid; Sunn O))). We wandered, from Destroyer to Magma, past Red Light Radio into Cloud Nine. Ha, gotcha, that wasn’t a band name but the name of the room/hall. Crushing careless feet and breaking teenagers shins we rolled me straight to the stage. The rest was history. A performance more significant than this hasn’t been given since Bob went electric. Well, ok, hyperbole etc, but this was the most original thing I had heard since, say, Mars Volta. Avant garde hip hop. Beats so glitchy, vocals so diverse, it was completely unpredictable and… yes, it was delightful. I grooved, I was befuddled and baffled, I couldn’t make out any of the lyrics and it didn’t matter. Even their outfits were baffling. I absolutely loved every second those two guys on stage were at it. I would later read that some newspaper called their album the hip hop equivalent to Trout Replica, and as we all know, Captain Beefheart was Tom Waits’ biggest influence when he redefined his career with that album, was it Heartattack and Vine (“Don’t you know there is no devil, only God when he’s drunk!”) or Swordfishtrombones? No, I still do not know a lot about music, I just know where Google is.

Anyway. Show over, we made our way to the elevator, and ran into none other than the artists themselves. Now, most people would get a little uncomfortable when they offer a handshake and get only a drooling grin in response. Shabazz Palaces, though, was not most people. MC Ishmael Butler asked if I can hear, said “It’s cool”, positioned himself in front of me, and looked straight into me. For a few immeasurably long seconds, we were in contact. We were two human beings. For a nanosecond, I thought about laughing, but that would have broken the contact. Then the moment was over. He walked on, touched my arm, let go. Holy crap. You see, 99.5% of all my eye contact is utilitarian. It is “I want” or “I need”. And sometimes, on nights like this, when my friends take me out, I can’t escape the image that they are lugging my memory along instead of me. Like bringing the urn of your deceased mom on holiday with you. So thank you, Shabazz Palaces, for rocking insanely hard, and for remembering me that I am a human being. I still feel that look.