For whatever reason, it’s my lot in life to be surrounded by Boston musicians anywhere and at anytime. (#editorproblemz.) I can book it to Logan, hop on a plane, cross an ocean and set up shop in a European city and still manage to run into/hang out with/cause a general ruckus with my favorite locals.
This isn’t exactly new. The last time I was in Chicago, The Wandas were playing at the Elbo Room and I wound up in a diner outside of Logan Square with the rock quartet around six in the morning after we had spent last call in a bar that rivals most Worcester basements. At CMJ and SXSW, Boston musicians tend to rove in packs, hitting each other’s sets to show support and descending upon crowded restaurants in parties of 10 or more—and I spent SXSW doing just this, as evident by the number of ridiculous photos that made it to Facebook of a few Boston music notables scarfing burritos and chicken and waffles on Congress Avenue in Austin.
My next out-of-town jaunt will take me to Spain this weekend for Primavera Sound, the international explosion of rock, pop, and everything in between that’ll unfold over the course of four days in various parks and avenues in Barcelona. I’m going to be hanging with Papas Fritas on Saturday, whose set at the festival is the focal date of their brief reunion tour this summer. A little bit of Boston (not to mention The National, Interpol, The Black Angels, The Walkmen, etc.) in Barcelona? I can board a plane for that.
It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.
HILARY HUGHES | HILARY@DIGPUBLISHING.COM
