M83: Piles of dung, not people, in Luxembourg
Kevin Bronson on
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Chapter 11: Shaving day. Yep, everyone’s shaving. PM is giving Anthony a haircut and I’m waxing. We were all getting a little hairy.” Seemed like a good day to do it, since we were fed a big fat slice of humble pie this afternoon. Not to mention feces.
M83 is heartily and genuinely embraced in the States, and yet very modestly (if that) enjoyed in Europe, which is OK — we’re used to it and aware of it. To cut to the chase, however, we sold a hilarious 43 tickets for tonight’s fine evening in Luxembourg. And, to cap it all off, there is a landmine of pig/horse/cow dung fermenting across the train tracks from the venue. So between the abysmal ticket sales and the smell of poop, well, it’s been a hell of a day. Hence, we are shaving, trying to erase our bus filth to (hopefully) perk up through fresh mustaches and slick thighs. Then we can put on our best face for 43 people in a venue the size of the hangover I’m going to try and have tomorrow.
Cut to … a surprising 100 tickets sold. Not bad! Patrick and I celebrated on our lonesome. In truth, we ended up in a pretty intense conversation about love and cultural politics until 5 a.m. Patrick has a wealth of touring experience, and I’m always in awe when he talks of where he has been, his romances and the pure love he shows for what he does. We covered guns, Americans, baby-making, the surreal place that is Hollywood, monogamy, local food production …
The more we talked the more I felt alone, watching the road fall beneath us.” To be perfectly honest, I started feeling this bizarre need to hug someone, something, a lover, my mother … I didn’t care!” That’s perhaps the weirdest part of touring for me: I’m so used to being affectionate with those in my daily life.” I miss being touched, I miss touching, feeling the tenderness of those that are close.
Argh. To bed: It’s always better in the morning.
I would have hugged you, honey bunny. You know that. Personally I could use a hug as well, tonight,
-e-