Casablanca, 1977.

You walk into a Mediterranean night that never quite ends. The sea air comes through the open archways. The white walls hold the last warmth of the sun. The music begins on a pulse that has not been heard before, and the room moves with it. A figure is in front of you. The dress catches the light. For ninety minutes, you are in the world this music has always belonged to, the night the future arrived, the sound that taught everything that came after.