Madrid
11/26/10
In the morning Frankie and I pile into the Sprinter with Wild Nothing and Luke drives us from Barcelona to Madrid, through otherworldly barren mountain ranges scattered with windmills and jagged cliffs. Kate and Margot sleep in and get on a train at noon cuz there is not enough room in the van for all of us. I am incredibly hungover and sleep most of the way there on the floor of the van. Kate and Margot beat us into town by several hours and are already at the club while we are getting pulled over for running a light by scary looking Spanish cops with batons and facemasks. Frankie busts out the emergency Spanish and apologizes for Luke, who is grumpy and uncooperative, and they let us go. The club is tucked into a cobblestone alley behind a small unassuming door that opens up to an impressive marble staircase spiraling down to the show space below. In the green room we are greeted by loads of cured meats, potato chips and candy bars for dinner and some asshole saying lewd shit about us in Spanish to his friend. We somewhat successfully vibe them out of the room and sit around and shooting the shit with Tweakbird, the other band who are two brothers from L.A. that totally slay. I remember that I put my hair in rollers the night before and when I take off my turban and take them out my curls are perfect and bouncy as hell! The show that night is awesome and loud and packed and sweaty and super fun. Caleb and Taylor are there and I wear my fringe-y two piece and talk to lots of rad Spanish girls after we play. Then Tweakbird go on and are super heavy and completely slaying it and Kate gets really excited and keeps saying “I LOVE THIS” and some cute guy puts a chunk of hash in my hand and life just totally rules. We stay up late and walk back to the hotel, where we hang off the balcony and watch the streams of people turning corners beneath us into the wee hours of the morning.
