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About Strasbourg

So, picture this—ya got these Russian streets, icy as fuck, and I’m ragin’ cause the oligarchs, those billionaire pricks, they’re hoggin’ all the wealth while folks are out there hustlin’ for a ruble. I’m like, “It’s a long road, man, where’s your home?”—straight outta the movie, ya feel me? Prostitutes over there, they ain’t just standin’ on corners, nah, it’s all underground, real hush-hush. Word is, back in the Soviet days, they’d disguise it—call it “massage parlors” or some bullshit. Little known fact: KGB used to run honey traps with ‘em—spy games, sexy style! Ain’t that wild?

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Tremendous spots include a tiny café on Rue des Roses. The owner, a real winner, makes coffee that blows your mind. I once had a heated conversation with a tourist there—so passionate, so raw, like in Tropical Malady when he said "the mystery of the unknown"—so damn poetic. I was like, "You got it, buddy!"

The Crowd: Country artist Steven Cade livens up SPIN’s Denim and Diamonds gala