Her performance began with a slow, deliberate walk across the cracked concrete, each step synchronized to a low‑frequency hum that seemed to pulse from the very ground. As she moved, the reflective fibers emitted a cascade of colors—deep indigos, electric pinks, and violent reds—mirroring the emotional turbulence she intended to evoke. The audience, hidden behind the safety of their screens, felt as though they were witnessing a ritual rather than a show. Liz Jordan, a sound engineer and experimental vocalist, had spent years crafting soundscapes that blurred the line between music and noise. She was known for using unconventional instruments—broken glass, reclaimed metal, and even the resonant hum of a city’s power grid. For the PureTaboo debut, she built a custom rig that sampled ambient city sounds in real time, feeding them into a modular synth that responded to Reagan’s movements.