It was the end of the longest day. We'd been up since 4 that morning. Spent 2 hours and change on the Eurostar. Ate lukewarm curry in an establishment within sight of the Little Arc. Saw the Mona Lisa. Took photos of people taking photos of the Mona Lisa (for ironic lulz). It got late. We decided to take in a show. But where?
Went down to the Pompidou centre where a nice lady explained that although there was nothing going on there that night, we could go and buy the French Time Out and see if there was anything that looked interesting.
We found a place, just round the corner (but then in Paris, everything is). We went there.
Spent literally two hours waiting for the motherfuckers to show up, and then they did. And this is what they played:
...for about 2 hours. Then an interval. Then they played again for another 2 hours. An incredibly drunk lady heckled the band constantly. But I'm guessing heckling in France is a high art because the band and everyone else loved her. And even though I couldn't understand her and she molested me while whispering sweet broken-English nothings into my ear at one point, I did too.
This morning my dad somehow remembered the name of the guy and got me the CD. All in all: Result.