Apparently the gig is touted as being three hours long. There are bells tinkering underneath monolith stabs of guitar and drums, squealing feedback or strings, like rats escaping from a burning city. That’s what I’m finding is the hardest part. I feel afraid and like I can’t do anything to help myself at the moment, I guess that’s the hardest part of all of this: I know that right now, there’s nothing I can do to help myself. It sounds like they’re cutting wood, measuring up space in the ground, drilling deep into fuck knows what. There’s shame, disgust, fear, the usual––not that that makes it any easier … and it’s still building, it hasn’t even hit yet. It feels like Michael Gira and his Swans know about all of this. But yeah, now I’ve messaged you and you’ve deleted your profile but I read the last thing that you wrote and now I know that things are really fucked.

While we were fucking it felt ok, haha, it felt good! I mean, I was lost and fearful and all of the shit that I usually am, but it felt good and at least everything else was switched off for a while. There are so many things that I regret right now––basically everything that led up to that last look in your eyes which, because of the way I stared at you, now feels like it’s been forced into my skull on the end of a blunt knife and there’s no way to get it back out again. The vibration of his last message made me flinch–– my desk buzzed. I’m learning more and more than once something starts, you can’t stop it. The way that the bass is played makes it clear that they’re in no hurry to get things done, which itself carries this menace, because it’s this stony confidence that this is going to happen. There’s a wind that’s building up strength, something that starts by raising the hairs on your arms, but I get the feeling that it’ll end by ripping up trees.

I imagine that the song that’s playing now––the title track of The Seer––would sound amazing live. I didn’t know they were playing, and I’ve never seen them live so I’ve messaged him back and said yes. He’s saying that he’s thinking of going to see Swans play live in Manchester, asking if I want to go. My friend messaged me back––he agrees that it’s weird about the timing of his text. “ Now feed me through/The power line/Watch me end your bloodless light.” They’re singing “In and out and in and out” now and I’m trying to keep my mind off what I’ve done, but it’s too fucked up and I keep seeing his face … I’m trying to zone completely into the music but Swans carry this overriding sense of dread so well that, I dunno, I guess this is the most appropriately sympathetic sound I could find right now, whether I like it or not. Swans always have this thing where you feel like you can’t really do much apart from go along with their command, which feels less pathetic as I think it to how it looks when I see what I’ve just typed. There’s some more stuff playing over the top of the body. It sounds like someone (probably Gira) is heavy-breathing in time with ( and down the neck of) the rhythm but I’m starting to question whether it’s an instrument instead.

They’ve locked into one of those riffs that repeat and swell slowly, with new instruments joining in bit by bit. I’ve sent him a reply saying yes, asking him why, and telling him that I’m listening to the new album right this minute. A friend just texted, asking me if I like Swans. It’s feeling restrained and tight and held back for now … but I think it’s going to get really heavy. I mean, Swans always get heavy, but there’s something about the mood. Things have settled slightly for now Michael Gira and some other people are chanting/singing the word “LUNACY.” I think at some point things will get heavy. I’ve hurt someone and I know that I can’t change it. I’ve been out of it for the last few days, a couple of things are worrying me. The first song is playing at the moment building up to something and making me feel on edge. I’m listening to The Seer, which is the new album by Swans, for the very first time as I’m typing this.

Lunacy swans