At Richards on Richards, there were two Kings of Convenience
i would love to be able to dance gracefully with the skinniest limbs possible, as if they floated in a gangly tangled mess.
Erlend Øye did just that in the most balletic crossings of the stage that night in a striped shirt fit for a small 12 year old boy. His eyes peered behind his huge retro-television glasses as he effortlessly instructed the crowd to call Eirik Glambek Bøe a "plukke", even if Eirik felt like a very skinny one. As the mellow audience, we were asked to join the Kings by being Feist (though she was delightfully there), backup singers, the makeshift choir Erlend created, and some whistling violins. It was the best concert that my silly self has ever attended, leaving me still in some sillier state of harmonious bliss.
And i did have very good company for the unfortunate drive out, the vegan dim sum, and the wandering strolls in the warm evening and the sunny afternoon, even if i couldn't see him in our hostel bunkbeds while we talked.
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