I don’t regret it. Is it somewhat shameful to admit? Sure. No person of taste wants to say they walked away from a Godspeed You! Black Emperor performance. It makes you sound like a rube — perhaps confirms that you are, in fact, a rube. But after about 20 minutes of drone, my festival-brain was growing impatient, wondering about the other set taking place across Union Park. It was the summer of 2012, and the Montreal post-rock legends were headlining Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago. I suspected that soon this extended bout of tension would give way to the kind of transcendent release on which Godspeed built their reputation. In the moment, though, I felt like I had the gist, and my curiosity was gnawing at me. So I went to see a different artist from Montreal.
