Do you remember those glorious early days of digital recording, when BIS albums would feature hot red WARNING labels on the front, and, in the back, a long list of hideous medical disasters that could result from unprotected playback? I remember that list:
-- Brain implosion
-- Torrents of blood gushing from ear canals
-- Bursting eyeballs
-- Teeth exploding from the upper jaw and embedding themselves in walls, pets, or other people
-- Disruptions of the space-time continuum and the entry into this world of raging undead abomination monstrosities.
Nonsense, most of it. No, my brain hardly ever imploded, and even if I ruined a few pairs of headphones with gore spills, had to pry a few molars out of brickwork, and fought off, with a woodshed axe, weirdly shrieking non-human intruders, you never heard me complain -- because you never heard me. The music drowned out everything.
