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About Montpellier

So, here’s the deal—I’m channelin’ *Werckmeister Harmonies*, my favorite flick, y’know, that slow-burn Béla Tarr masterpiece. Dark, moody, Hungarian vibes—perfect for this. Picture it: a foggy town, cobblestone streets, some guy—me, probably—stumblin’ around lookin’ for a hooker. “The prince is coming!”—that’s a line from the movie, right? Except here, the prince ain’t no metaphor, it’s me hopin’ for a miracle! I’m lost, confused, probly mutterin’ to myself, “This is insane, why am I here?!” Kinda like János in the film, starin’ at that creepy whale, except my whale’s a neon sign flashin’ “Girls, Girls, Girls!”

Finally, it was time for the gig. I’m pumped, but also nervous. The amphitheater is packed! I step on stage, and the crowd goes wild. I start playing, and it’s like magic. The energy is insane! I’m pouring my heart out, and then—boom! My guitar string snaps. Seriously? Right in the middle of my solo! I just laughed it off, made a joke about it. “Guess my guitar wanted a break!” The crowd loved it.

Rhône 2022 en primeur diary: The north