the words weren't mine

Right then, I was struck by how placid and unchallenging my listening experience had been. I’d essentially been given reworks of worldwide hits, and, truthfully, to call them reworks feels like a stretch. Instead, I felt like a bystander observing music only intended to be seen, not heard or felt. Music to soundtrack clippable moments, yet somehow untethered from memory—a sensation I wasn’t alone in. Some attendees even joked that the event signalled a recession indicator, early tremors of an impending crash. read more

IMAGE: Wyndham Lewis