Laz and I discussed our relationship over dessert (and next to a fire dancer) at Nikki Beach. The fire dude didn’t seem moved by my eloquence and nor was Laszlo. This was because I had had several tequilas and a rum and they both probably thought I was singing “Yes, we have no bananas.”
Meanwhile the trio Nungan did their inimitable, hypnotic thing in the background, captivating the room (which looks out on the surf) and probably drawing Laslo’s attention.
What a gem this little band is: When Annie sings, it is like a princess becomes a queen before your eyes… All the sweetness and syrup harden into a feminine diamond. Soft and powerful. She’s nice, too. Her guitarist, who’s name escapes me right now, and now I Feel like an ass, is fantastic and he clearly loves spilling pure guitar emotion everywhere.
It must be said that PapaGuyo — the third of the trio — and his swift, careful percussion (a percussion table — complete with what might be a beaded cowbell — ) really grounds the mystical flavor… He’s the smoke to the pipe, the bark to the puppy. And really, he gives some teeth to the mellow, twisting serpent that is Nungan’s aural signature. Plus the guy looks pretty sweet on a scooter.
So without further ado, a web shout out to our new friends, who are most definitely loved on this island (and in Paris).
Nungan (the moon and the star) can be found everywhere and it’s wonderful to find them. www.nungan.com.
- Some restaurants… (lalalabreia.wordpress.com)