It is a beautiful, wondrous thing. To hear it from someone else fills you with a joy unlike any other; to know that this person is happier than they were before, at least temporarily, possibly because of you, makes you happier in return. The cycle continues. When they do it, you do too. And when you do it, they do it more. Eventually the sound dies out, but that feeling may not – it may just be struggling to escape, for the emotion supersedes the sound. And when, eventually, you come back down to earth, you still do not feel as heavy as before. The lightness lingers. It stays. You go about your day feeling just a bit better than you did when you woke up. Truly, it is the best medicine.
The listener begins with a voice. They understand the words, comprehend them, listen to them. These words begin to disappear, to become incoherent, yet the listener struggles on. The feedback, the bass boost, the reverb start to mix in to the vocal recording. The listener is soon hearing music. It becomes further distorted; only feedback remains. The listener ends only with the “natural resonant frequencies” of the room – the purpose of the activity.
