From Streaming To The Stage: How Music Discovery Is Changing Concert Culture
Sasha Mednikova - 28 Aug 2026
And Also The Trees The Critical Distance (w S H Jones)
Never beginning, never ending days Days when the ceiling is so low I cannot stand And the blunted knife presses into me Melting in the airless heat The walls close into me Nudging me this way and that >From one to another Like nervous thunder Thudding in my head a heart Is beating out the boredom Nudging me this way and that >From one to another Like nervous thunder Until I fall to claustrophobic sleep And the ever-watching walls lean over me But when I wake I feel alone There is nothing but a vast blank floor And although the walls are watching I can never reach them No matter how far I walk I can never reach them And the knife begins to shine Hisses in my hand Slices through the always blank distance So I can see my hooded girl Swipes through the whitewash nothing That shrouds my hooded girl She walks to me across the furrowed fields I see a human headed fish revolving in her belly And the knife it sparkles Like the piercing yellow mirror sea And slashes open dead sailors clouded memories Spills their seaweed dreams over me Spill their seaweed dreams over me Spill their seaweed dreams over me Spill their seaweed dreams... over me As I lie on the coral Amongst the driftwood And the ever watching walls lean over me
