Late Nights and Long Flights

Living with a touring musician is hard. It’s about late nights and long flights. It’s about sweat and regret about that last song the band should have spent an extra day fine tuning.
It’s more about broken guitar strings than buying flashy things. It’s living in the wrong time zone. Permanently.
Wearing clothes you’ve already worn twice. Then flipped inside out, turned back to front and still haven’t been able to wash. It’s about mould-ridden showers, bad food and hotel beds that don’t feel anything like your own.
Night after night. City after dirty city.
But the sore throats and exhaustion are worth it the second the intro music fills the venue and thousands of voices in the crowd attempt to drown out the lead vocalist with excited screams. All the struggle is forgotten as the force from the audience rushes over the stage and makes every musician on it feel invincible.
It’s all worth it if their music speaks to just one person.
And there my musician stands, guitar held proudly in his hands as stage lights flash and pan. The proud grin on his face visible even from the back of the crowd. It’s not so hard living with a musician in this moment.
