Up early. Really early.
But it was good. Really good.
Green tea.
Walk through Parc La Fontaine.
Saw Jamie’s street. Walked by Amy’s place.
Walked up De Launaudiere.
Sauntered into grand-mère poule. Order my usual. It’s the best.
Go meet Brian at Café Em for cafés au lait.
Home.
Write. Write. Write.
Me and Chris Randle are sitting, writing, and our iPhones are blowing up.
Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts.
Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts.
Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts.
Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts. Texts.
Buzzbuzzbuzzbuzzbuzzbuzzbuzz.
I mail a picture of Chris to SNP, because I think it’s funny.
More writing.
More planning.
– What are you seeing tonight?
I just posted it on Facebook. Go look.
– No just tell me.
Dude.
Trying to meet up with Parlovr’s Alex Cooper.
He’s gone from the place before I arrive.
Jill and I go to Dieu du Ciel! and have beautiful beer.
It’s time to hit shows.
Jill goes towards David Byrne.
I go south, in a cab, to Foufounes, to see Natasha.
She comps my Dorée.
I go to Metropolis and the bouncers hug me.
– DOOD. Where you beeeeeeeeen?!
Toronto.
– Ah!
Time for Nick Zammuto. And his band Zammuto.
Zammuto crushes it. Like, seriously.
Weird + weird + genius + love; that’s Zammuto.
The crowd is won over by the second song.
The crowd figures that out by the fourth song.
He plays “Yay” which he frames as being about back pain.
Projections confirm this supposed thing.
Zammuto finishes, then we hang.
Ali can’t be in town, loved the Books.
I ask Nick to pose for a photo. I send it. Ali loves it.
Nick and I talk about Vermont.
We make hazy plans for me to visit him in the winter.
Bye bye, Metropolis.
Subway up to Mont-Royal.
First You Get The Sugar at O Patro Vys.
Hugs from Dan and Alex, handshakes from Adam and Mick.
A beer from Dan.
Jamie, Amy and Mark Lepage show.
FYGTS play. They rule.
I remark that Alex Silver is a rock star.
I do it again.
I always do this.
He’s just got that it.
Leave.
We drive to another venue.
I feel tired. Lightheaded.
Need to eat.
SERIOUSLY NOW
GIVEN THE LAST FEW DAYS’ WORTH OF POSTS
WHAT DO YOU THINK I WANTED TO EAT
AND WHAT DO YOU THINK I ATE?
That’s right. A cheeseburger from Nouveau Palais.
With Alex, who happened to be home.
We talk, catch up. It’s good.
Randle is sitting one booth over.
We’re ridiculous.
Back to Jamie, Amy, and Mark.
Run into another Alex. An old friend/roommate.
We had a falling out. He hasn’t talked to me since 2009.
He acts like nothing’s amiss so I go along with it.
It’s pleasant.
We hug. Or, rather I hug him.
To be pleasant.
And it is actually really, truly pleasant.
Me, Jamie, Amy, and Mark drive to near Casa.
IT’S TIME FOR HOLLERADO! YAY!
EXCEPT THE VENUE’S FULL. REVERSE YAY.
We can’t get in.
Oh wait, Mark can get in. He’s reviewing the show.
We other three go to Biarritz for wine with Jasmine.
Then we ditch the going-to-the-free-Austra-show plan.
We go to Lambi to see the Darcys.
Eight and a Half are still playing.
They sound okay.
(Everyone knows how I feel about Eight and a Half.)
(See next link.)
But actually, no, not just okay.
They were good last night.
Wes Markell from The Darcys comes and hugs me.
I was owed the hug for my birthday.
Then they start playing and faces start melting everywhere.
This is the best rock band at this festival.
Some idiot writer said they were the best rock band at CMF.
We chat with Joseph Donovan after the set.
We part ways.
Me and Jill walk to Alex’s.
Jasmine asks for a last call hang.
Sparrow.
Vodka. Soda.
Home.
Advil.
Write half of this pre-crash.
That’s using your noodle.
(Wake up at 6 for a few minutes. I’d been dreaming about cheeseburgers.)
[!!@#$%^&*&^%$#@!]
The first POP post is here. The second is here.
Share that one and this one with your friends via dem Twitters and el Facebook.
(NB: I’m late-posting September 21th’s post because to cover POP Montréal you have to do it and write about it after. By this math I’ll have one post to make up — which I’ll do sometime next week.)
This is the twenty first post in my #30posts challenge.
Don’t know what that is? Read this.