5/8 : radio

5/8 : radio

shtozh poigraem — 5/8 : Radio #256

1 h 6 min · 12. feb. 2026
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episode shtozh poigraem — 5/8 : Radio #256 cover

Description

You're standing on the embankment of an old town, pieced together like a construction kit from dozens of different places you've already been. Ahead lies a wide strait, where large cargo ships glide slowly past. On the opposite shore, veiled in a light haze, are the crimson lights of a TV tower and the sharp spire of a town hall, hemmed in on all sides by intricate old houses. You absolutely must get there. Against the sunset sky, painted in every shade of orange, seagulls circle noisily. In your hand is a crumpled paper ticket for the ferry, which stubbornly refuses to dock, though it's long overdue. Suddenly, from the cheap eatery behind you — where middle-aged men in loose shirts, sitting at plastic tables with empty shot glasses and unlabeled bottles of cheap liquor, are locked in a chess match — a mix by shtozh poigraem for 5/8: radio begins to play. And you want to stay. To listen to the music, to watch the waves break against the embankment stones, and to wait for the night to descend upon the city

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episode Kikok — 5/8 : Radio #259 artwork

Kikok — 5/8 : Radio #259

You're riding an old bicycle along a dirt road through a dacha cooperative. Every time you hit a bump, the rusty bell and the slightly wobbly rear rack give a little jingle. In the distance, you can see a wall of towering pine crowns. The sky is clouding over, promising rain soon. You pedal past wooden houses with peeling paint on their walls, overgrown garden plots, lopsided fences tightly woven with ivy, concrete posts plastered with sun-yellowed ads for crushed stone, and apple trees bending low toward the ground. For some reason, you feel like you need to keep going — down to the creek, deep into the forest. But you stop. Somewhere far away, through the singing of unknown birds, the whine of a chainsaw, and the bark of a lonely dog, the melodies of the kikok mix for 5/8: radio reach your ears — and suddenly, you feel a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long, long time.

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