Some artists paint landscapes. Others paint portraits. Bob Bicknell-Knight  paints the strange psychological terrain of the internet age — and increasingly, he builds it in sculpture. The British artist has developed a practice that explores how digital environments, video games, and online systems quietly shape the rhythms of our daily lives. Working across painting, installation, moving image and sculpture, Bicknell-Knight creates works that feel like pieces of the digital

Steven A. Jones : There’s a science to making people laugh in under thirty seconds, and Kingonlii has it down to an art form. Not the loud, try-hard, throw-everything-at-the-wall kind of funny — but the controlled chaos that lives in facial expression, timing, and the kind of observational accuracy that makes you send the video to three friends with “THIS IS YOU” in all caps. The first thing that hits is the performance discipline. Every character is physically distinct. A

There are comedians who tell jokes, and then there are comedians who enter a room like a headline — which is exactly what happens with Bailey J Mills. Before a single punchline lands, you already know you’re in for it. The hair is higher, the silhouette is louder, the energy is somewhere between unhinged cabaret host and your funniest mate in the smoking area at 3am. This is not stand-up in the traditional sense. This is performance comedy in full drag, full throttle, and fu

Wearing OHMNIO isn’t just about silhouette, message, or cultural alignment — it’s also about the idea of shielding your energy in a hyper-saturated world. The visual language built into the pieces — the symbols, the coded graphics, the almost-military-meets-digital aesthetic — speaks to a generation that is constantly moving through invisible waves: Wi-Fi, EMF, Bluetooth, satellite signals, data tracking, cellular networks. We live inside infrastructure now. OHMNIO is what i

There’s a very specific kind of power in discovering a DJ before the algorithm catches up — that moment when the music still feels like a secret, like you’re part of a private frequency. That’s the energy of PETERBLUE. Press play and it’s immediate: rhythm first, emotion second, ego nowhere. The sets don’t just move — they pull . You’re not being entertained, you’re being transported into a soft-focus, strobe-lit universe where every drop feels like a memory you haven’t lived

Forget the fruit. Forget the heritage logos. Forget the annual “new” release that looks exactly like last year’s model in a slightly different shade of obligation. For too long, buying tech meant subscribing to a personality preset — the clean corporate minimalism of Apple, the maximal spec wars of Samsung, the loyalist nostalgia of Sony. Safe. Predictable. Emotionally beige. Nothing arrived and said: what if tech felt exciting again? Not just new — but culturally awake. Tra