(Post 5) - The Taste of Music

    Hey, I wasn’t able to get to get online over the weekend but I have had the most eye-opening amazing time.
     I was outside that Internet café on Thursday afternoon, I couldn’t tell if things were going well or if I had just been stupid in coming here.  I wandered out to the nearest main road and caught a ride from a local grey hired man in a white Astra. I couldn’t help thinking he looked like Paul Mccartney as he told me he told me he was heading to a town called Caen. I gladly accepted the lift. It’s a little closer to Paris and I thought there could be an opportunity in a big town to steal make some money. He dropped me off outside the bureau de change on Rue st Jean where I changed my small wad of English pounds into a small wad of euros and went straight to the nearest café to get something to eat. Sitting down in one of those cheap plastic chairs I could hear the sound of an acoustic guitar coming from a local bar, the low steel sound muffled by the people on the street. I stood up and left before ordering.

     As I walked into the bar the music had stopped but I could see the people it had come from. A group of four, three boys and a girl sat merrily in the corner between nicotine stained oil paintings, chatting amongst themselves with the joyful attitude of youth. I ordered a pint of cider from the barman and placed myself close to them, hoping one of them might invite me over. As I sat there I could hear them discussing politics – the virtues and wonders of communism, and one of them  (I later learned to be called Jean-luc) eventually invited me over. We sat drinking and talked endlessly about politics, music, and art until after sunset. They said they had to leave to get ready but invited me to meet them at a club around midnight and gave me directions scribbled on the back of a beer mat.

    After finally eating at a local restraunt and sobering up slightly I managed to find the club. I walked in and smiled at being able to smoke inside. There was a good DJ on, an eccentric man in his mid thirties, playing classic 90’s eurotrance, the typical set list; Fragma, ATB, groove coverage, Ferry Corsten etc. I couldn’t see Jean-Luc or the others so I bought 2 bottles of Smirnoff ice and joined the sea of dancing bodies. After a while the DJ finished his set and introduced the next act calling them “2Shay” As I looked at the stage I saw Jean-luc with a guitar, and Cassie(the girl from the bar) with a bass. My first thought was that this isn’t going to go down well with this crowd, but they started to play an amazing fusion of punk and dance, there drummer keeping a perfect amen beat with complex fills and a guy on the keyboard giving it all a modern synth feel. They sounded a bit like that band apollo440, but with hip-hop verses and punky power chord hooks.

     They played for about an hour and when they finished the set they came down and told me it was time to experience the ‘real’ culture, intrigued I said ok and climbed into the back of Jean-Lucs bright orange VW van, sitting in the back with Cassie and the equipment.
We pulled up at this beach on the D514.  There were 40 or so cars spread right out in a huge circle on the sand and a big group of people dancing around 2 fires. Cassie started greeting some of them then turned to me and pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid. putting 1 drop on to a sugar cube she placed it in the back of her mouth. She took another one and did the same for me.  She smiled at me with a meaningful look and said in her feminine but husky French voice “now all we do is wait”.

    I was introduced to a lot of people, a big collection of writers and artists and musicians, a lot of whom were from Spain and Italy there was even another girl from England studying as an erasmus student. I sat down with Cassie and opened a beer enjoying the mellow beats coming from the sound system and talked passionately about nothing important for about an hour. I noticed the first stirrings of something unusual when the surrounding cars started breathing. I turned to look at Cassie whos shirt was moving, the logo dancing around her chest. I ran my hand through my hair, let out a sigh and leaned back on the cool evening sand. When I opened my eyes the sky split open, revealing a vast canvas of galaxies swirling around in a vast dark purple chasm. I stood up and joined the dancers letting the music ripple through me like a lifeforce. I could feel the beat pulsing through my body perfectly in sync with my heart. I started to see the music throbbing out of the speakers, everybodys faces twisted distortions of bliss. This was like nothing I had ever experienced before, all my senses were overpowered by music. I could smell and taste the rhythm, the vibes, the whole atmosphere. I still had control but could, for the first time in my life really see the beauty and colourful wonder of everything around me.

     This went on until the sun came up, and we got a lift back to Cassies top floor apartment from a Spanish lad. I stayed up talking with Cassie until about 5pm on Friday before finally leaning back on an old torn sofa and falling asleep.
I awoke at about 7 on Saturday, and went with Cassie to meet Jean-Luc and the other two from the bar yeaterday. Blaise and Gordon - Yes and I know your probably suprised too at a young French lad called Gordon.  We sat in a park with blankets, beers and baguettes, and I finally got to play the acoustic.
I was still feeling drained from yesterday, and was really glad when Cassie said I could stay on her sofa again. She let me wash my clothes and shower, and even cooked a meal for me. She turned in quite early and left me on the sofa watching a French music channel. It seems even the French aren’t immune to the alternate dimension of shit that is currently American pop music, Kesha, Justin Beiber and co.

     This morning I woke up feeling rejuvenated and fresh, the night on the beach still ablaze in my mind. Cassie and I went for coffee and crepes at the same café I sat down in when I first got here. I told her about this blog and how I needed to find somewhere with access to the interwebs, and she suggested we fly by jean-lucs.

     So here I am now sat in Jean-lucs apartment. Iv had a read through the comments, and visited a few other blogs. Thanks Tibble - Dieselboy is currently pumping out the windows of a cramped French apartment, for the neighbours to enjoy. Cassie has said I can stay at hers again tonight, but I’ve said no. I’m going down to the train station to try and get the train into Paris. I still don’t know what I’m going to do when I get there though. Again I’ll update this e-diary when I can. Thanks for reading. x

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS