It’s a big release to assert your deficiencies and press on, so why not own up that I’m not too hot at narrative descriptions of anything that feels beyond narrative descriptions, which, for me, is most of the world. And it’s especially so for art-performance-producer-collaborators Fevered Sleep’s Sheep Pig Goat (I keep wanting to call it sheepigoat, because FS surely anticipated that – no full stops, lumping then separating between neurons), which featured precisely what its title suggests, brought together,…
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