*Recommended listening material for this post - Tricky's Angels with Dirty Faces*

Tomorrow I will be hiphop photo girl, booked day and night for Source Magazine. So I flail to make today a today and tomorrow deadline day. Meaning, I'm typing like the jaws of hell are snapping at my ass and the Oban delivery truck has its back door swinging open and I'm running towards a case about to fall to asphalt.

One of the weekend's top images, seared into my distracted mind: a man, halfway between old & middle, doing a drunken limbo under the outstretched legs of a hippie chick sitting on a plastic lawn chair in the midst of the bomb shelter bar/music venue, her comfily-shoed feet resting on the edge of the stage. I had no idea who was playing as I was there for a small journalistic favor (and microscopic adventure) for Saturday's final destination. A highly-regarded musician walked in and it was a what're you doing here/what're YOU doing here moment.
Band comes back from break and two notes into the first song I turned to my pal and said OHMYGOD They're doing Echoes... off of Pink Floyd's Meddle... it's one side of an album, I hope they do the entire thing.
His face shrank.
My heart exploded.
Except for the paltry vocals they did a fine job. 23.5 minutes later, we left.
Still scraping fun off of my ceilings after Sunday's fete.
Please pass the espresso.
All of my bean-fuelled love.