Using an Internet metaphor seems especially appropriate, given an increased emphasis on social media this year. Elsewhere, using Twitter during a performance might be viewed as bad manners; here, crew members and volunteers wore T-shirts emblazoned with Twitter-friendly slogans: "follow @bangonacan" and "tweet #boac." Stage announcements called attention to a social-media lounge upstairs, where Twitter users and old-school bloggers could recharge their equipment.

If, for some reason, you grew weary of sitting and listening, you could manically strum or beat along with Bang on a Can pieces in the video game Rock Band 2 in the social-media lounge. Audience die-hards were invited to have their hands stamped at the end of each hour; collect all 12, and you were a "Marathon Warrior," with a certificate and other enticements to show for it.

The gimmicks could have been overbearing, were it not for the striking impression made by the performers and music. Moritz Eggert, a German pianist and composer, showed a comedic flair in solo works that called for shouting, pounding the piano's casing and mashing its keys with feet, chin and rear. Slagwerk Den Haag, a dazzling Dutch percussion group, similarly combined virtuosity and theatricality.

I had 11 hopeful seconds that the Times was linking to Bang on a Can's Twitter feed when I saw the hyperlink, but no such luck. Obviously, it's not smart for any website to send people elsewhere, but I will.

Bang on a Can Twitter T's were a hot commodity; not one but three journalists asked me where they could get them. Here's Bang on a Can's Matt LeMay, modeling the goods:

I didn't end up playing Rock Band, sadly (well, gladly for everyone else). Apparently Nadia Sirota did, though she was almost lured away from Yo Shakespeare by some Journey song.