It’s been a week now, and I’m still reeling from the total mind/body abduction that is Basslights. Entering the Mothership was like diving into an auditory Atlantis – ethereal, enigmatic and an aura of blue.

Even though Pretty Lights (who blew away my expectations) and other fringe artists performed, let’s face it, I was there to see Mr. Lorin Ashton, the bass-god himself. Despite having had the most memorable live-music experience back in October with him at Madison Square Garden, I was determined to keep my expectations low for Basslights. In true form, he pushed and invaded all the boundaries of music in a way that made me re-examine my -and this time his- existence. Honestly, there is no way to mentally prepare yourself for a Bassnectar show. All that pre-show research and Youtubing is like trying to learn about black holes by watching Interstellar. Just open your ears, mind and heart, and be there. As this is my third time seeing Lorin this year (and second time at one of his one-off, personal shows), I’m starting to get a sense of the scale of his show production and consummate art.

Art takes many and all forms, but music is arguably the most visceral. A child may not be able to interpret a painting or sculpture, but the kid will get jiggy with it. It’s in our DNA to express physically and respond biologically to rhythm, cadence and melody. Music has the mysterious power to manipulate your mood and energy. On some level, when a group of people are listening to the same song, they’re essentially having the same experience. This is mind-blowing.

Now imagine enlarging and amplifying this experience to a 10,000 person arena, and you’ll begin to fathom Bassnectar’s unifying dynamism. How is he a capable of making an entire room feel the same oneness? It’s as if he’s filtering all our interfering nervous systems and desires through his sonic sifter, and all we have on the other side is his unique view of life. And despite being crammed into a giant smoke-and-sweat box with thousands of strangers jostling and violating each other’s personal bubbles like fish squirming for tossed crumbs, from the stands, I could see every single person’s face illuminated by the lasers and visualizers. In that moment, I felt humanity, but I also felt infinite.

This singular experience is a result of Lorin’s ability to control nearly every aspect of the audience’s environment. Really, there’s no opportunity for you to distract yourself because he just floods all your senses -total sound, tactile and visual immersion. Each visual is paired with each beat, choreographed to a tee, like a spontaneous dance between sound and vision so seamless that you don’t even realize both are integrated on the spot using this and that as to harmonize the most free-form, wildstyle method. The visuals weren’t just pleasing to the eye, they gave me a feeling, like being massaged under water while the past, present and future flashed before my eyes. And his music! It’s as if he gets inspiration from everything – a frog’s ribbit, a child’s laugh, a tin can. It’s not so much tunes/beats as it is beautifully, intuitively blended noise. Lorin calls his music catharsis, but it doesn’t purge you of negativity so much as it challenges you, opens your eyes and ears in a way that reminds you, “This is Life.”

I’ve never felt such pure respect, awe and curiosity towards an artist. He doesn’t just manufacture albums and mixes, he’s an evolving movement. He stands for community, individuality and social change -he stands for good, both public and private. One of the best feelings is sharing him with other friends, introducing his breathtaking power into their lives. I watch voyeuristically as they stand in awe before one of his arenas, because they finally get a glimpse of what he’s about – a glimpse that festivals can’t truly afford due to all the air flow, noise bleed and commercialized chaos. I say glimpse because you can never fully know or predict Bassnectar. You’re not just passively listening from drop to drop -you gotta listen and listen hard, because the way he blends music is a freakin’ mystery. I fear missing a second, a beat, because that means missing a part of his story, his message.

Below, the story of evolution. My only regret was not hearing this song.

I could go on and on about this fella, and regrettably, I already have. Last night, my boyfriend and I had an hour-long conversation about him, and it was the highlight of my day. Don’t get me wrong, writing about him isn’t easy, since much of his impact can’t be analyzed, only felt. But I couldn’t just sit on my restless fingers -I had to organize and understand all this emotional/psychological/physical frenzy by putting it down on “paper.” Does that make me a dork, freak or Basshead? Hell, yea.