The Noise That Binds: How a Teen’s Merzbow Marathon Challenges Our Listening Habits
There’s something undeniably captivating about watching a teenager willingly subject himself to 400 albums of ear-splitting noise. Sam Andrews, an 18-year-old from Georgia, has become an unlikely internet sensation for his quest to listen to every single release by Merzbow, the Japanese noise artist whose music is less melody and more sonic assault. But what makes this particularly fascinating is not just the absurdity of the endeavor—it’s what it reveals about our relationship with music in the digital age.
Why Merzbow? Why Now?
Merzbow’s music is not for the faint of heart. It’s abrasive, chaotic, and often intentionally unlistenable. Yet, Andrews’ Instagram Reels, where he documents his journey through this discography, have racked up hundreds of thousands of views. Personally, I think this speaks to a deeper craving for authenticity in an era where algorithms curate our playlists and attention spans are measured in seconds. Andrews’ project is a rebellion against the mindless consumption of music as background noise. It’s a reminder that music can still be an experience, not just a soundtrack.
What many people don’t realize is that Merzbow’s work isn’t just noise for noise’s sake. It’s a deliberate challenge to the listener, a test of endurance and openness. Andrews’ commentary on albums like Rainbow Electronics and Merzbow Loves Emil Beaulieau highlights this. He’s not just surviving the music; he’s engaging with it critically, rating it, and even finding moments of beauty in the chaos. This raises a deeper question: Are we losing the ability to appreciate music that demands something from us?
The Algorithm vs. The Album
One thing that immediately stands out is Andrews’ old-school approach to music. In an age where Spotify’s ‘Discover Weekly’ and TikTok trends dictate what we listen to, he’s committed to the album format. He even keeps a color-coded spreadsheet of his progress, a relic of a time when music was something you collected, not just streamed. From my perspective, this is a quiet protest against the fragmentation of music into bite-sized, algorithm-approved snippets.
What this really suggests is that the album—as a cohesive artistic statement—still has value, even if it’s buried under a mountain of singles and playlists. Andrews’ dedication to Merzbow’s discography is a testament to the idea that music can be a journey, not just a destination. It’s almost like a medal of honor, as he puts it, to sit through something so demanding.
Noise as a Cultural Phenomenon
Merzbow’s music has found an unlikely home on platforms like TikTok, where Gen Z uses it as a soundtrack for memes and pranks. But Andrews sees this as a superficial engagement, more about shock value than genuine appreciation. Personally, I think he’s onto something. Noise music, when stripped of its context and turned into a gag, loses its power to provoke thought.
What’s truly interesting is how Andrews’ project has sparked conversations about experimental music among people who would never seek it out. He’s not just listening; he’s evangelizing, sharing his experience with friends, family, and strangers online. This reminds me of how subcultures used to spread—through word of mouth, passion, and a shared sense of discovery. In a way, Andrews is recreating that dynamic in a digital space dominated by virality.
The Future of Listening
If you take a step back and think about it, Andrews’ marathon is a critique of how we consume music today. Streaming platforms reward popularity over depth, and challenging music like Merzbow often gets left behind. But as Andrews points out, the fact that you might only listen to something twice doesn’t diminish its value. This is a crucial insight, especially in an era where worth is measured in streams and likes.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Andrews’ audience skews older, with most viewers in their 30s and 40s. It suggests that while Gen Z might be more open to experimental sounds, it’s the older generations who still crave the kind of deep engagement Andrews is offering. This raises questions about the future of music fandom: Will the next generation prioritize convenience over connection?
Final Thoughts
Sam Andrews’ Merzbow marathon is more than a stunt—it’s a statement. It challenges us to rethink how we listen, what we value in music, and why we engage with it in the first place. Personally, I think it’s a call to slow down, to resist the urge to skip to the next track, and to embrace the discomfort of something truly challenging.
What this really suggests is that music, at its best, is still capable of surprising us, of pushing us beyond our limits. Whether you love Merzbow or hate it, Andrews’ project is a reminder that music can be more than entertainment—it can be an experience, a conversation, even a revolution. And in a world where everything is curated, that’s something worth holding onto.
