Woke up in Bordeaux, France today to the sound of my name chiming in unison from my dream and the soft-breathed one beside me. His voice nudged me from slumber as a result of the complaining chorus in the bus hallway.
The next few frames were filled with static and the disgruntled vibrations of one of the French promoters. An example of one with a Napoleon complex in France?! No! After a reprimanding, a cool-down, more words and a load-in, a few of us took off for a walk into the center of Bordeaux where we found hot, liquid bliss, good eye-candy and a toasted bagel with a side of soup.
Since then we've all been huddled inside the dressing room, heads down, and computers heating up our laps and minds. This with one splendidly different dinner break to the double-decker red bus that is parked perpendicular to the venue. We sipped Bourdeaux in Bordeaux, had honey, shephard's pie and chocolate-apple crumble. It was definitely one of the better tour meals, and of course the atmosphere itself was the best yet.
As I plug away in the sunken corner of a torn leather couch, I keep feeding my ears with a mix of Caribou's Swim, We Were Promised Jetpacks and a mix of Ty Segall's finest. The latter being my favourite.
This video's collage of images reminds me of everything I am currently 'packing' into my traversing days of reality: trains and love and hats for headed decor, owls for luck, photos and photos and more photos, musical servings by the dozens and just all around loveliness. The song seems to come out of the glowing ember of a heart-on I have right now. Oh, lovely one...
Ty Segall, you rock my world.