Two of the strangest minds in dark music almost never share a stage, which is the entire reason this one matters.
The Tear Garden is what happens when cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy and Edward Ka-Spel spend decades collaborating with nobody asking them to be commercial about it. The result sounds like a fever dream narrated by someone who has read too many banned books — psychedelic, menacing, patient, and unlike anything else the genre produces. It tours so rarely that catching it feels less like buying a ticket and more like confirming a rumor in person.
The venue's warehouse room suits the disorientation exactly. Concrete, low light, nowhere for the sound to politely go.
Go in prepared to have your sense of what a concert is quietly dismantled. Then drag along the person who claims nothing surprises them anymore, and watch that claim fall apart in real time.
Two of the strangest minds in dark music almost never share a stage, which is the entire reason this one matters.
The Tear Garden is what happens when cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy and Edward Ka-Spel spend decades collaborating with nobody asking them to be commercial about it. The result sounds like a fever dream narrated by someone who has read too many banned books — psychedelic, menacing, patient, and unlike anything else the genre produces. It tours so rarely that catching it feels less like buying a ticket and more like confirming a rumor in person.
The venue's warehouse room suits the disorientation exactly. Concrete, low light, nowhere for the sound to politely go.
Go in prepared to have your sense of what a concert is quietly dismantled. Then drag along the person who claims nothing surprises them anymore, and watch that claim fall apart in real time.
Two of the strangest minds in dark music almost never share a stage, which is the entire reason this one matters.
The Tear Garden is what happens when cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy and Edward Ka-Spel spend decades collaborating with nobody asking them to be commercial about it. The result sounds like a fever dream narrated by someone who has read too many banned books — psychedelic, menacing, patient, and unlike anything else the genre produces. It tours so rarely that catching it feels less like buying a ticket and more like confirming a rumor in person.
The venue's warehouse room suits the disorientation exactly. Concrete, low light, nowhere for the sound to politely go.
Go in prepared to have your sense of what a concert is quietly dismantled. Then drag along the person who claims nothing surprises them anymore, and watch that claim fall apart in real time.