I’ve never indulged in hallucinogens or had an out-of-body experience, but I imagine, or hope, it to be something like what I witnessed tonight.

It is February 20, 2011 and I’m at the Echo, I know, except I don’t really know, you know? I only know that wherever this is, is where I should have always been. And I dont know why, but I am smiling. You are smiling. They are all smiling. The euphoria is instant, and infectious, as you are swirling through a sonic sea of electro-infused rock. And it rocks hard. Kind of like being on the last level of a video game on your last life, and you realize you can never, ever die. It’s a shining, electrifying series of explosions, explosions of awesome, and you’re like, How did I never hear of these shredding robot angels before?

Hailing from Austin, The Octopus Project delivered an enthusiastic, mind-blowing sensory-overloaded spectacle complete with a mesmerizing light show, video projection, lots of glow-on-the-dark electronics I did not recognize, and these tall ghost pillars with eyes and furry ears. You had to be there, man.

For a (sort of) electronic instrumental band, the sound is delightfully less experimental than it a perfectly balanced choreography: deliberately innovative with blatant melody, gracefully complicated time signature transitions, very loud and very live drums, synth hooks, vicious guitars and a masterful theremin performance. It’s sans vocals but you don’t even notice because this is anything but ambient; this is it, whatever it is: The manifestation of the elusive, looming digital/analog dichotomy. The soundtrack to your psychedelic trip. Or whatever people see before they die.