Andrea Bocelli at the Bowl tonight and I can't decide if this dress is too much or not enough. What do you think, babe?
Andrea Bocelli at the Bowl tonight and I can't decide if this dress is too much or not enough. What do you think, babe?
Four hundred people in the Troubadour screaming every word back at Jack Antonoff and I had to step outside before my chest caved in. This tank top is a lost cause and I'm not even sorry — come find me, babe.
Casiopea at The Wiltern tonight and those keyboards hit different when you're half-dressed with nowhere to be for another hour. Bet you'd just stand in my doorway and listen, babe.
Lucy Dacus at the Bowl tonight with Cat Power opening and I've been up since before the sun with "Night Shift" on repeat. Haven't found a reason to put clothes on yet — you'd just stand there watching, babe.
Soda Stereo at the Kia Forum tonight and I've had "De Música Ligera" stuck in my head since I opened my eyes. Still haven't found a shirt worth putting on for — you'd be no help at all, babe.
Cold Waves tonight and I've had Stabbing Westward on repeat since I woke up. This shirt was supposed to be my getting-ready look but the music took over and now I can't be bothered to find pants — bet you'd just lean against the doorframe and watch, babe.
The Warning just ripped into "Choke" at The Fonda and I'm pressed right against the barricade with my ribs humming. Three sisters from Monterrey and I swear the whole floor is levitating — you'd be deaf and grinning if you were down here with me, babe.
Bikini Kill at The Wiltern and I can feel the floor shaking before the lights even dropped. Kathleen Hanna hasn't opened her mouth yet and I'm already gone — tell me you wouldn't follow me into this pit, babe.
Liz Phair just opened with "Fuck and Run" and the whole Greek sang it back like a confession. Already hoarse and Sleater-Kinney hasn't even touched the stage — tell me you wouldn't lose your voice too.
String quartet inside the dome at Mount Wilson and the acoustics up here are something else. The whole mountain goes still when the bow finds the first note — bet you'd forget how to breathe too, babe.