is seeing Wilco in Paris.
It's Wilco weather. And I'm in a Wilco mood: modernist pain and beauty and all that. I've been playing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot for three days now.
Wilco is not in Paris; Wilco is in Brazil. But I figured if I were imagining my ideal weekend, which began with wishing I could see Wilco, I might as well imagine it in Paris.
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