Damso de passage à Montréal pour une session live

Go up the stairs, and turn the corner. You’re at one end of a long subway corridor — the kind of bland, generic space citydwellers tread through day in and day out. The walls and floors are colored in the overlit, antiseptic white associated with Kubrick films and Apple stores. A man with a briefcase strolls toward you and passes you on your right. A sign hanging from the ceiling points toward an exit. Posters for dentist offices and museum exhibits line one side; three metal doors on the other. Walk to the far end. Turn left. Make a right. Follow the arrows. A yellow sign informs you are on Level 1.

Turn the corner again, and… you’re in the same corridor as before. Same man with the briefcase. Same sign. Same posters. Same doors. Make the same left, then the same right. If you’re lucky, the yellow sign says you’re now on Level 1. If you’re unlucky, it still says Level 0. But now, there are also a set of “rules” next to it. You’ll once again find yourself in the same corridor. Pay close attention to your seemingly nondescript surroundings. If things appear “normal,” proceed forward. Should you see an anomaly — anything that seems different or off from that initial Point-A-to-Point-B trek — turn around immediately. Despite reversing course, you’ll end up in the same place. Round and round you’ll go. Do this successfully enough times, and you’ll eventually make it to Level 8, where the outside world awaits. Fail to heed the instructions, and you’ll be trapped in this urban purgatory with no way out.