Acid House

Yo. The goose said BRING THE NOISE and I didn’t even question it—I just followed. We were in the back-left quadrant of the main stage, right under the laser dome that looked like a portal into ‘90s Berlin. Waves under the brim started melting. The plaid started glitching. Every beat hit like a memory I never had. Someone handed me a sticker that said “Good to Get Down” and my third eye winked. Everything got louder in the best way possible. Kandi clacked. Bass slapped. The goose judged no one. This wasn’t just a look. It was a moment. This was Acid House.