Righty-o! We all know by now that I go down music rabbit holes for a while and get fully obsessed along the way. Enter: The Killers.
I was irritated with life one afternoon. I think it was actually the last afternoon of the summer that had any heat involved in it. I wasn’t quite sure how I wanted to spend it; torn as usual between getting something done and truly experiencing life and just wanting to relax and do nothing. Ha! And somehow I found myself sprawled on a lounger in the backyard, earphones on, watching this:
I mean, it was pure glory. I was hot. The kids came and went and played around me. And I was at a concert. And it was a bloody fantastic concert. It had meaning and depth but was also upbeat. There was strutting. There was also irony. And, good lord, there was a dustland fairytale.
That must have been over a month ago and most weekends you can still find me in the bath, bubbles up to my neck, tea or wine in hand, belting out the question ‘are we human or dancer?’ and watching this concert. Scott asked me today if he should be concerned. Ha! Somehow dear Brandon is more threatening than Bob, Gordie, Lana, Tove, and Leonard! I assured him that he was just a part of the recipe and the only worry he needs to have is preparing the budget for a Killers concert in Spain next year.
Here honey, this will warm you up even more: