Dork: Asking nosy questions so you don’t have to.
We're nosy. We like to know what life is like for our favourite pop stars. Proper life, y'know. Not this fancy glam sham they'd like us to believe. That's why we're asking some of them to give us an account of exactly what they get up to in a 24 hour period. This month... Muncie Girls' Lande Hekt.
This is probably the kind of time I wake up on a normal day. Most of the time, it takes me a while to first remember what city I’m in, and next whose house or which venue, and who else is in the room. I always have a brief panic that I’ve totally lost my voice and I won’t be able to sing but this is almost never the case.
Commence the awkward glances around the room for who’s next in the invisible shower queue. It’s never me, because everyone can see that I haven’t brushed my hair or taken my make up off and it’d be ludicrous for me to commandeer the bathroom to do that.
We should have left at 12 to get to the venue on time but no one wanted to leave wifi. It’s a terrifying thought being plunged into the back of a van somewhere in Germany without being able to refresh your newsfeed continuously.
One of us suggests a mega quick stop at a supermarket to pick up some houmous and a pretzel for the road.
We leave the supermarket with houmous, apples, carrots, cashews, baby kale, ice lollies, rare-in-Germany still water, toothbrushes and sometimes a watermelon. We’re going to have a van picnic and it’s going to be awesome. In the van it’s kind of awesome, but we didn’t get cutlery and there’s rubbish literally everywhere. We feel overfull and ashamed. Once we start moving everyone falls asleep instantly like the big babies that we are.
We get to the venue and load in. Eat all the same snacks that we thought were essential from the supermarket but now the promoter has kindly laid out for us. I sit on a sofa or floor and write in my diary. Next is just sound-checking, doors, the show, then pack down and load out.
Around this time, I begin the search for red wine. Once located, the wine becomes the fuel of the party. Up until this point, most days are remarkably similar. After this point, it is rare that one night resembles another. For example, recently, after a show in France, I found myself leading a feminist discussion group with three teenage girls. The next night I became inseparable from our touring party because a guy working behind the bar at the venue we were staying in shouted at me and then took me aside and said that he knew where I was staying that night. A few nights later I rode down the riverside on the front of some guy’s delivery push-bike while he spoke to me in French and I don’t speak French.
Obviously I go to bed at some point. Probably around 2.
Muncie Girls tour the UK from 25th November.