I think in the last two years I’ve seen more pictures of shows in the Milla than of pictures of me as a baby in my whole life. It’s smaller than I expected, of course. It’s also more dizzying, this concrete floor that fucks up with your equilibrium,it’s pretty intense, dancing here.
Welcoming events into a venue. Keeping my eye on the time before doors open and the things still left to do. All goes according to plan? Time for a drink. Good. The gig and food are actually quite great. Even better. Guests, organizers and artists are happy. Perfect. Oh, the peace you can find in the comfort zone of things you know…
Sorry for my readership, this IS a Munich Nights post, not a Emilie’s Chronicles. But the intensity of short-lived moments of beauty, between strobe lights and short, intense sets and spontaneous dance floors on a Wednesday night put me in a very, very specific mindset.
M for Managing to do some house work at long last. M for Meeting over pastries and talking about important things. M for Multiboy playing in Café Shau ma moi as I get the new 4Shades album from Albert Pöschl. M for MajMusical Monday and a great, great evening of shows in the Glockenbachwerkstatt. M for Marking this date in the calendar as the day I decided to trust “Majmm” into infinity and beyond.
Ernie tells me : “they are playing 30 songs in 45 minutes”.
Everything on the Glocke stage is shaking from fast-paced kick-ass drum stunts. The only thought I have in mind as I head-bang and laugh at lyrics such as you have long hair and you’re lookin’ like a fucking HIPPIIIIIIIE is “these guys are motherfucking crazy”.
Long minutes in short hours, short minutes in short hours, short minutes in long hours…
Time stretches as I wait for the evening to start off at Corleone. Meanwhile, I absorb the beauty of the place : Sus Sutherland’s artwork, Fastforwardmonaco’s videos, the high ceilings and the speakers that come out of the walls. Finally meeting some people that are so, so, so important. Time stretches but it’s not boring, not at all.
I’ve written like 3 versions of this post already. It’s hard, wanting to talk about a moment, but not finding the right tone to describe it. When I got home last night, my mind was buzzing from an eventful, long day of seeing people, meeting people. The tone of last night should have been a sweet melody, but I couldn’t find it just then. But don’t worry, it gets there in the end.
Did you know that the first record I ever played was Protein’s Helldunkel? That I actually equipped myself with a turntable in order to enjoy that album to its full potential? Protein is special to me. So is Nana Dix, this incredible joy of a woman who feels so much.
Oh, Munich. How you surprised me tonight.
Monday evening. Cosily installed in front of my laptop. Good music playing in the background. I could easily have just drank another beer by myself and happily have gone to sleep. But I really wanted to witness Franz Dobler’s speech live at the Willie Nelson Tribute. So I headed out to Unter Deck again, for the third time in 6 days, through that concrete, modern alley that is so unlike the rest of the streets of the city. I don’t need Google Maps anymore to get to Unter Deck. I’m not sure if this is good news or not.
I don’t take a lot of pictures. It’s hard to portray the smell of dead leaves finding its way back into the city’s perfume after many days of the overpowering smell of sunlight. To portray the way the lukewarm breeze hits the trembling muscles of my thighs from such a long stroll by the Isar. To portray the vibrant palette of the landscape before me as I sit on a very carefully chosen tree trunk.