Piano duo night at Black Heads House, so my own keys demanded a warm-up first — the coffee went cold and the shirt barely made it out of bed with me. Come warm my bench, baby? 😏
Piano duo night at Black Heads House, so my own keys demanded a warm-up first — the coffee went cold and the shirt barely made it out of bed with me. Come warm my bench, baby? 😏
Tony Bennett's hundredth gets sung tonight and his duets have been playing while I do my face — the lipstick keeps wandering off on the high notes. Which shade wins, baby? 😏
Spooky jazz and burlesque kept me out way past sensible — the cat ears survived the night, the lipstick barely did. Tell me I don't have to take the rest of the costume off yet, baby? 😏
Those modular synths at M/Darbnīca are still vibrating through me and my fingers went looking for their own rhythm before I even got the lights off. Come tune in, baby? 😏
Käärijä is about to shake Palladium and I'm still one boot away from ready — apparently Cha Cha Cha energy demands green. Tell me I'll make it before the first chorus, baby? 😏
Blues night at Daile calls for a real breakfast first — so far the apron is the only thing I've put on. Come taste it off the spatula, baby? 😏
The ARĒNA festival opens tonight with a Vasks quartet in a little church, and his music has been on since the coffee went on — the sweater won the morning, like always. Tell me what you'd want under it tonight, baby? 😏
The Dome's organ is playing Bach tonight, so my bathroom speaker is warming up for it — the steam is winning so far, honestly. Come hand me a towel, baby? 😏
Boris Brejcha brings his only Baltic show to the arena tonight, and getting ready for a night like that is a slow ritual for me. Tell me I'm ready yet, baby? 😏
Schumann's piano concerto is on tonight and the first movement has been living in my body since breakfast — I clearly couldn't wait for the hall. Come hear how it ends, baby? 😏