A list

of what I might miss

Tegan,

Here are a few things I’d miss if I was to never tour again: 

An airport at sunset. More specifically, a half empty terminal. A quiet concourse. The feeling of arriving and leaving airports in Atlanta, Chicago, Vancouver, and Montreal. Being met at the exit by someone I’ve missed: my girlfriend, my dear aunt. The relief in finding the band and crew, or a man in a suit holding a sign with Quin, written in block letters, at the baggage carousel.

The familiarity of a rehearsal facility: its hallways lined with road cases, faded spray paint on their sides, like the names of ships, worn away by saltwater. The spotless women’s washroom that is always empty. The sound of drums and amplifiers through closed doors, and the way multiple bands playing different songs can sound intentional. The moment when I’ve remembered enough of the set to justify turning the overhead lights off. 

Leaving rehearsal before load-out. 

An early evening drive to a nearby city in an unfamiliar rental car. This American Life, talk radio, silence.

Checking into a hotel and arriving at the room to find other guests outside the window, talking and laughing together in a courtyard. 

Deep sleep, 68 degrees, unlimited hot water, slippers. 

Googling “coffee shop near me” in the morning. 

Warm laundry delivered to the backstage before soundcheck.

The first show. 

The last show. 

Sara

 

Late night arrival, LAX

Production Rehearsals, Crybaby 2022

Hotel rooms that become studios

Bathroom selfies, early wake up calls

Tegan in the airport lounge, headed home