So this is going to be one of those posts where I’m going to talk about something that happened to me that was not related to sex. But in a way, it was really sexy. Right, bear with me because I’ve got quite the day to relate to you.
As those who follow either me, my better half or both of us on Twitter know, we went to see James in concert last night.
This involved getting 47 to buy the tickets and then waiting five long months until the day of the show. And you know what it’s like when you wait ages for something to come. Suddenly it’s there, and you do it and then it’s done and you’ll spend some time recalling your fond memories of the thing. While possibly crying because it’s done.
Anyway. James were playing a two night stint at the O2 Academy in Brixton. So off we went, to Brixton, which in itself was an adventure because I shit you not, I have never been that far on the Victoria line. So when we got outside, my first impressions were quite good. It seemed eclectic and there was a store that sold MAC cosmetics and there was a band playing nice music outside the station.
We decided to wait for 47 and guest at the Starbucks next to the station, but they were both running late, so we weaved through the streets of Brixton towards the Academy to queue. Queuing for a concert is… an experience. I’ve not done it a lot in life, so to stand in the early evening sun with about thirty other strangers discussing James was a novelty. The cappuccino I had was making me sick and there was still no sign of 47 and guest.
Right up until we passed the security barriers, when the man himself appeared, grabbing his tickets off us and rushing to get into the building. They make the women and men go in through different doors, which I thought was quite weird.
Cut to inside the Academy (which is really beautiful, I must say) and all four of us are now seated and ready for things to kick off.
First there was Echo and the Bunnymen, who came on stage to Gregorian chanting, and who’s lead singer looked (from where we were sitting) like Noel Gallagher and Neil Gaiman had a love child together. They were dull as, and I spent most of the time trying to figure out what the song titles were. I came up with “Our Deirdre”, “Ginny’s Saving the World” and “Flan”.
Also, I’m not sure, but I think the lead singer was trying to tell us that he was from the North. Just saying.
The build up to the James portion of our evening was different. Even the music in the background was tense, as the roadies set up the stage.
And then James came out and Tim went batshit with his dancing and Saul played the violin and Larry made that guitar his bitch and the entire band was FUCKING AWESOME and I never ever wanted to stop moving and dancing because I swear I thought I was gonna die if I did and then they played LAID and I cried in my head because FEELS.
After that lovely experience, it felt like the entire crowd was headed towards Brixton station. Which was lovely as I am sure as shit never going out alone in Brixton after 6 pm.
We made camp in ILB’s parents’ house and slept far too little. This morning, we went for breakfast, which was lovely as I got to talk to 47 a bit more. A note about 47, dear reader : he is just about one of the loveliest guys I know. And he’s a great friend for ILB. I’m gutted that they don’t get to see each other that much anymore.
After breakfast, we went to pick up some plants from ILB’s grandma, who promptly roped us in for coffee in her garden and continued to question us until it was time for 47 to head to the station.
The rest of the day?
I think I’ve been sleeping.
So, to sum my inaugural James experience up: it was magical. The best gig I’ve ever been to. And I feel very lucky to share a love for this band with my better half.