The title was secured onto my wrist, white letters on red plastic. Great, Let's go! I would have preferred to have dressed rock chick style in a black leather mini skirt, a revealing low cut, black vest, with a crucifix slung around my neck for effect, not a statement of faith this time. Possibly some black cowboy boots on my dancing feet? And what about a long brown dreadlocked wig upon my head, with a faux fur animal print cap attached to it (I do actually possess one, another kind gift from another lovely friend)? I really am my own worst enemy.
Unfortunately, the dress code on the ticket stated: Please respect the local rules and regulations. No headgear of any kind.
Instead, I ended up looking like a middle-aged wife and mother of two, in some long trousers and a huge hippy, flower power tent top (aka my 'lucky top' but that's a whole other gig). I decided to let my hair hang loose in keeping with my new Bohemian style but soon had to scrunch the mass of sun-bleached straw securely on top of my head. It was hot, humid and sweaty, still thirty degrees or so. We share the same sun, but it had already set here and was no longer sunny. However, I realised it was far too hot for crowd surfing and I didn't want to pass out.
Romeo managed to get away with wearing his shorts, it means nothing except that we were barred from the hotel pub! This wasn't a problem to me as we could pick a part that's new on the barrier separating the Fan Pit from our General one in the unseated outdoor arena. There was not much difference between these spaces apart from an extra QR 250. So we had the perfect position to sweat it out before the band came on at around 9.20 pm as they were unsupported.
I was just looking, absorbing the atmosphere and thinking c'est la vie when they appeared from a catacomb in the hotel behind them, taking their positions on the stage in a moment. Losing the plot completely, I squeezed the life out of Romeo's left arm whilst sort of scream shouting as they kicked off with a song from their new album called I Wanna Get Lost With You.
They are certainly not a chatty bunch but let their music do the talking. The drummer is without a doubt the most animated band member. With this in mind, I can't help giving the guys some nicknames. So from left to right of the local boy(s) in the photograph we have: Smiley, Cocky, Animal (from The Muppet Show) and Mr. Melancholy. Hope they don't mind?
I was mesmerised from beginning to end, especially with Kelly Jones' skinny, throbbing left leg snug in some black jeans. I wanted to jump up onto the stage and hang onto his other ankle whilst be blown into further oblivion by his guitar playing and amazing voice. Whatever would Security and Romeo do with me then?
The next day Kelly tweeted 'Doha Rocked last night' and of course, he was right, we did! I was high air punching with both fists, water bottle secured between my breasts whilst jumping up and down like Zebedee (from The Magic Roundabout) for an hour and a half. Except, of course, when I swayed along in an ecstatic trance to Mr.Writer and Graffiti on the Train. I almost cried when the whole audience sang the chorus of Maybe Tomorrow a few times over, getting louder as Mr. Melancholy commanded us to. I sang my heart and soul out super loud to every song. The band were brilliant in an unassuming, yet perfectionist way. So I have total respect for them putting on a great performance without any cocktails. I would definitely see them again and wished they could have stayed more than a minute longer after the encore.
There was no sign of Superman soaring in the few clouds above us only an aeroplane or two. I'm sure I heard the red dragon on a large Welsh flag fire-breathe, fight or flight? An open bottle of water did come flying overhead showering us with some tiny, cooling droplets. Had Mr. and Mrs. Smith already checked into the Sheraton that night? Were the bartender and the thief snogging behind a thousand palm trees? For goodness sake Jones, hurry up and wait. Just e-mail or phone Dakota and communicate with her, it's not that difficult!
Can I remember what an Indian summer feels like having spent almost half a decade in the sun? Once again, louder, ''So maybe tomorrow I'll find my way home.''
Stumbling and smiling she crawls into bed. Of course she takes her clothes off, they were far too sweaty to sleep in. Waking up the next day at ridiculous o'clock as usual, my first thought is yesterday, tomorrow, today? When the family had gone to school I sneaked back into bed, sleeping until 10 am. Ssh, don't tell anyone but being an extremely enthusiastic, ecstatic hippy, rock chick is very tiring.
What a fantastic gift from Romeo.
This time, my lucky top didn't allow me to meet the charming band in the hotel foyer after the gig (Morten, Magne and Pal of a-ha in Sheffield 2010 mit meiner Freundin) but mercifully it did keep us safe from harm, gunshots, and death.
Mon coeur est brisé. My heart is broken. Ma famille à Paris sont sûrs heureusement.
My family in Paris are safe, thankfully. Je suis désolé. I'm sorry. Ce n'est pas la vie.
This is not the life. Je pleure, Je prie, Je l'espère. I weep, I pray, I hope.
La peur, non, jamais! Fear, no, never! Ensemble nous sommes plus forts.
Together we are stronger.
My family in Paris are safe, thankfully. Je suis désolé. I'm sorry. Ce n'est pas la vie.
This is not the life. Je pleure, Je prie, Je l'espère. I weep, I pray, I hope.
La peur, non, jamais! Fear, no, never! Ensemble nous sommes plus forts.
Together we are stronger.
Avec tout mon amour,
Susie xx
PS Did you spot the 26 song titles and two album references in my review? Have a nice day.
