Aftershow Diaries
Aftershow Diaries
Chapter I
No Stir, No Story
Written in Paris — May 25, 2026
Nina Naskidashvili
April 22nd - 19:00 outside of Théâtre de l’Œuvre.
In Paris, the night doesn’t always unfold - Sometimes, it stops exactly where it’s supposed to begin. The crowd starts to gather outside, the security guard glances at me, checking whether I belong and he waves me towards the bar.
Inside, the theatre smells exactly like it should: Waxed wood. Fabric…. Dust that’s settled into history. And something else — human presence, layered over time, a kind of scent that doesn’t belong to a single night, but to all the nights that came before.
While heading downstairs a mirror catches me for a second - Leather boots, Metal details. Leather jacket and a Foo Fighters tee that’s seen better nights.
Aftershow Diaries
Chapter II
Last Call: L'Olympia
Written in Paris — July 4, 2026
Nina Naskidashvili
—
“Go hardcore on the hairspray, there’s a rock show tonight,” Shot to Greg – a hairdresser, part confessor, part archivist of Paris that doesn’t quite exist anymore. Somewhere between the scissors and the stories, he paints a picture of after-parties from twenty, thirty years ago—when nights bled into mornings and nobody checked the time.
“Who’s playing?”
Jack White.
A man who proves each time that rock is not dead. Every time “Fear of the Dawn” comes on, I'm reminded that rock isn't preserved in museums. It's still alive, still unpredictable. I missed him in New York in 2019 with The Raconteurs. Missed him again in Paris in 2023. That kind of mistake doesn’t get a third chance. So this time, no hesitation—ticket secured, wrapped as a birthday gift.

