sadiq bey. digital musician. poet. performer. detroit. new york. rome. berlin.
„Being a long way from it, I see the shadow world where I sit, writing. Not much was noticed by normal people in the Amsterdam corridor back then, not even in broad daylight. It was as though normal people were extras, props, additional noise. All kinds of shit popping here and there. Motherfuckers on the roof, down in basements. Every available space was being used for, well, the directive. The project. The dark fiction. No one saw it but the players. No one knew it but those players. And there were big numbers. A massive neuronet, an incredibly dense system of bio-semiotics derived from an active matrix where night lasts as long as the material, no matter what, an oftentimes teeth-grinding experience. That’s what happens with saturation. The chemical wedding process en mass, the blasphemous search to satisfy that imaginary, cheap thrills in the unknown: the deliberate reach for body-threatening danger. Advanced decadence paid for by the will to darkness. Suffering as an act of anarchy.“