Just before leaving NZ I ended up bunking with James and Ami for a bit. Technically I was not in the same bed and I slept in a different room, but I wanted to use the word "bunking" because I think it sounds neat. Hanging out at their place had its benefits, like drinking on their back deck in the sun, but the greatest was exposure to a world of music. The muse living within James extended my music collection from the 200 songs I'd been listening to since I was 16, to an overwhelming collection and a new appreciation for music that lives outside of the retard stuff we hear droning on the radio. And one of these bands I was introduced to was Beirut. I was hooked. After two unsuccessful attempts to see them (first tour sold out in London the day before I arrived, and then they pulled out of the Benicassim festival a few weeks before I was to go) I was all but giving up hope. But in January of this year a golden platter was put in front of me. After selling the platter for a
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A blog about music, pop culture, and the stuff in between