The scratches in Yoko Ono records are moments of relief.

The line turns a technical flaw—vinyl scratches—into an aesthetic judgment. Yoko Ono’s recordings are often associated with abrasive, confrontational avant‑garde sounds; calling the scratches “moments of relief” implies that the listener experiences the music itself as more challenging than the accidental noise of damage. The remark also plays with expectations about “purity” of playback: what audiophiles treat as contamination becomes, here, a welcome interruption. As a quip, it functions like a backhanded compliment and a commentary on experimental art’s capacity to exhaust, provoke, or overwhelm, while also suggesting that even disruption can feel soothing when the baseline experience is intense.