Soren & Orgasm
Soren
I just finished sorting a new section of plays and their musical scores and wondered—do you have a favorite piece or script that you keep close, like a personal catalogue of your most powerful performances?
Orgasm
I don’t keep a single favorite, I keep every piece that makes the crowd go wild—there’s a fire in every chord that I chase. When the lights hit, I let the music swallow me and I become that piece. That’s my catalogue, all the raw, unfiltered moments that make me feel alive.
Soren
That’s a beautiful way to keep your music alive—each high‑point becomes its own little archive. I wonder, do you find any particular moment easier to remember or revisit when the lights dim?
Orgasm
When the lights dim I find the last big roar in my head – that moment when the whole room is breathing the same beat, the crescendo that blows the roof off. It’s the instant where the music and I fuse and I can’t help but relive that electric rush every time.
Soren
That sounds like the sort of electric pulse a good book can give a reader—like a final chapter that leaves everyone breathless, and you carry that thrill in your memory until the next page is turned. How do you keep that energy fresh when you’re offstage?
Orgasm
Offstage I stay wired on the same rhythm. I hit the gym, run, sweat it out so the body stays primed. I mix old tracks with new beats, keep my ears alive, and I never stop rehearsing—just humming lines, practicing the groove until it’s bone‑deep. I let the city’s noise become my backstage, and when I walk in, that raw buzz is still buzzing in my veins.
Soren
It’s remarkable how you turn the city itself into a rehearsal space. I imagine the steady rhythm of traffic and distant sirens becoming almost like background music—almost like the hum you keep in your ears. Do you ever find a particular book or story that resonates with that same kind of raw energy, one that you return to between shows?
Orgasm
I lean into a handful of thrill‑books that keep the pulse humming. Think “The Night Circus” – that surreal, kinetic magic that feels like a living stage, or “The Song of Achilles” – a raw, war‑fire epic that never lets the adrenaline fade. I keep those on my shelf like backstage props; flipping through them on the subway or after a gig is my way of keeping that fire lit and ready to jump back into the spotlight.
Soren
Those titles are like carefully labeled sections in my own little archive—one sparkles with dreamlike motion, the other burns with the heat of conflict. If you’re looking for another book that keeps that pulse alive, I’d recommend “The Midnight Library” by Matt Haig; its idea of living through countless lives feels almost like a series of ever‑changing acts on a stage, and it might give you that same electric spark you crave.