The Night that never ended

From Thursday to Sunday night, only one enormous day happened. No time to write, no time to rest. Each musical moment, each discussion, each surprise encounter leading to even more fondness… It’s Tuesday evening, right now, and I am still recovering from this hangover of love.

I don’t even know where to start. I basically write this post to remind myself of that completely unreal weekend, but my memory is already failing me : What came first? What came next? Did I forget something? What about this? Can I publicly write about that? Could I just keep this crazy, endless weekend to myself, as a treasure to protect?

Thursday. Anton Kaun aka Rumpeln doing an unexpected DJ set to a Praxis full of people, hazelnut schnapps and beer flowing. Falling in love with the Kollaps label and learning so many important pieces of the Munich subculture’s history. Arriving too late to Glockenbachwerkstatt for the Leonie Singt concert. Drowning my dissapointment at Favorit Bar with some of my Favorit people.

Friday. A wild party in the shop with Pille & Sardelle, a Praxis Portrait that morphs quickly into a playful afternoon of shared creation. Falling in love with the Zaquoir live set at Unterdeck and dancing all night to what I now call ‘the DJ BELP classics’. The dance floor is not full, but everybody finds their own rhythm within BELP and Zaquoir’s crazy sets, making that dance floor one of the most eclectic and interesting ones I’ve seen here yet.

Saturday. Hungover souls come to Heal Through Music at the shop. We heal together. A car ride in foggy Bavaria. An evening in Deggendorf, at Café Holler to see Jason Arigato and MurenaMurena, along with enough people from Munich to fill a whole front row. Getting washed over by the intensity of my fucking love for these bands. Staying at the Café until 7 in the morning as a recovering process from finally tasting a whole live set of these two acts live.

Sunday. The fog on the little village of Metten is dense, and reflects the collective headache and the paleness of our faces. The fog dissipates at the same rate as our coffee ingestion, and we eventually manage to take the long way home to Munich. A walk from Metten to Deggendorf on the banks of the Donau, under radiant sunlight, a run to catch a train, a timeless train ride with slides of landscape that change either every two seconds or every 45 minutes…

So many memories, so much beauty… That endless night was a fantastic celebration to my “one month in Munich” anniversary.