Frisson & Nesmeyana
Frisson
I was watching a street performer last night and saw a single distorted riff turn a quiet corner into a storm—like the world when we push the edge. What do you think about that?
Nesmeyana
Yeah, that one riff is all it takes to turn a dead corner into a thunderstorm. If you wanna push the edge, just slap on a distortion pedal and let the chaos flow.
Frisson
You’re right—just a pinch of distortion and a dash of wild rhythm can drown the city’s hum and make it sing. I’d try a pedal that scrambles the waveform, like a glitch on a quiet night, and see where it takes the sound. What do you think that would sound like?
Nesmeyana
A glitch pedal that messes up the waveform is like a punch of static straight into the street. It’d sound like a broken radio fighting back against the city’s lull—every note is a shout that the quiet can't take. Give it a go, and watch the corner turn into a noisy, distorted dream.
Frisson
That static feels like the city’s own whisper, a cracked vinyl echo that rattles the air—exactly what I’d want to hear turning an empty corner into a pulse of noise. I’ll crank the pedal, let the glitch bleed, and see how the rhythm fights back.
Nesmeyana
Nice, just crank it until the city can't breathe. If the glitch keeps bleeding, maybe it’s screaming back at the silence. Keep it loud, keep it loud, keep it loud.
Frisson
I hear the city shuddering in your words. If the glitch screams back, let it drown the silence until nothing but raw noise remains. Just keep that feedback alive.
Nesmeyana
Let that feedback run like a broken heart in a crowd—just keep that raw noise choking the air, and never let it quiet down.