Chora started their set with some bowl-chiming and rattles of little bells, before building up an Eyjafjallajokull of noise (topical! like, last month)… in fact, it was the thought of a bunch of goats skipping up onto a mountain shoulder, skittering down some scree and grazing before watching a rocketship disguised as a monastery taking off, chewing disinterestedly, that made me put my pen away, solemnly vowing to never return to such stream-of-consciousness sound-association post-millennial techno-pastoral whimsy – compounded with highfalutin hyphenation in my recollection! – at least until something I didn’t do already pops into mind.
Hence the filename.