When I arrived at the folk-jazz-rock-fusion South Korean band Sangjaru’s Sept. 20 show at the Cedar Cultural Center, I was angry. I wasn’t the only one. I know this even though I didn’t really talk to anyone in the audience, because this was Minneapolis, in America, in 2026, and everyone there was a sentient human being. I know that we came to that concert angry, and we came tired, and then we discovered halfway through that we hadn’t actually come to a concert at all, but an exorcism. A ritual.
