music, travel

she was electric blue, catching the last of the light.

…and then we went to Festival No.6 in Portmeirion. It’s been years since I’ve been to what I’ll hesitantly refer too as a ‘smaller’ festival, and I had the loveliest time getting reacquainted with it. We made friends for life and discovered some sublime new music – both of which tend to evade me when I surrender myself to those hectic few days a year on Worthy Farm (not that I’d change that for the world) – and on top of those accidental perks, we saw Badly Drawn Boy in the woods (who closed with the Stone Roses’ I Wanna Be Adored), made it into two 100-capacity Town Hall sets with the No.6 Ensemble (Gaz Coombes and James, no less), caught Steve Coogan and Chris Gifford in the Central Piazza, watched our beloveds – Belle & Sebastian and King Creosote – headline, and fell in love with the Brythoniaid Choir daily. All that’s left to say is: be seeing you.






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music

i know a place. i’ll take you there.

I’m never sure how to do this, other than: the Charlatans kicking it off with the best ones. That bit of masking tape letting me know the Albion was on course. Run them jewels (fast). King Creosote’s impromptu stand-ins in the Crow’s Nest making everything okay. Mavis Staples taking us there. Ain’t nobody tired. Singing happy birthday to the Dalai Lama. Belle and Sebastian in the Sunday evening sun. Who are you?

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