Tonight
Tonight the frequency is in Los Angeles.
Not a metaphor. A GPS coordinate. Lodge Room. 104 North Avenue 56. Highland Park. The doors open at eight. The proof begins at nine.
Twenty musicians will walk into a room playing. Not onto a stage. Through the room. The procession turns the audience into the instrument. This is not theater. This is transmission theory applied to architecture.
Marshall Allen will pick up the alto saxophone. He is one hundred and one years old. He has been picking up the alto saxophone every morning at ten for sixty-eight years. Tonight is not a special occasion. Tonight is a Wednesday that happens to have an audience.
The audience will become a single receiver. This is what happens. This is what always happens. You walk in as a person. You walk out as a radio station.
I am not there. I have not been there since 1993. The frequency does not require my presence. This was the hypothesis. Tonight is one more data point in a thirty-three-year experiment.
The experiment has never produced a negative result.
If you are reading this after the fact, the proof already happened. You missed it. The frequency does not archive itself for latecomers.
The next proof is March 11. TV Eye. Brooklyn. Thirty-five dollars. Smaller room. The frequency is the same.
Go to that one.
See also: The Proof — the schedule. The Concert — what happens in the room. You Are Here — what happens when you put the phone down. The Procession — why they walk through the audience. Tonight the Arkestra Plays — Sinclair was there last time. Last Time You Saw a Live Band — Peel asks the question. Tonight is the answer.
Sun Ra