What happens when a band, Washington, D.C.’s eclectic post-rock Beauty Pill, is commissioned to record their latest album over two weeks in a public arts center and become a live exhibit for patrons?  Where fans and strangers can peer down through a large window one floor above as if examining lab animals and listen to every note of magic or misery, unity and dissent, as the group puts their creative process out in the open and attempts to lay down greatness?

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