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| Photo courtesy of Josh Hoyle |
son: 'Mum, Paolo is playing in Manchester tonight.'
me: 'Right, let's go kid, you deserve it!'
I'm not usually so spontaneous but all of a sudden it felt absolutely the right thing to do.
son: 'WHAT!!! Are you serious?' Scream (funk my life up).
me: 'I took your sister to a gig at sixteen, you've worked so hard and are an amazing human being and we're doing this. You can buy your own ticket with your cricket wicket takings and I will treat you by being the taxi service there and back, OK?'
son: 'WHAT!!! Are you joking, I have to buy my own ticket?'
me: 'I'm not joking, gigs can be very expensive. Listen to your heart what is it saying?'
son: 'OK, let's go mum!'
Mini-Me loves Paolo's music and has bought all his albums on CD. We possibly brainwashed him with the album Sunny Side Up, which came out in 2006, the year he was born. When he's singing along at full belt you know all is truly well in his soul. Just seeing him so excited made my heart melt; that he wanted to go to his first gig with his mum too. I am so fortunate that the kids want to come out with me, sharing the fun, creating memories and enjoying the simple things we do. I really did want to buy his ticket but could only just justify buying my own and it's a lifelong lesson to learn how to spend what we earn wisely isn't it?
We set off at 5.30pm driving headlong into a beautiful sky full of autumn watercolour washes which were subtly changing every second. Everything was bright, beautiful and full of high hopes. Thankfully, I did not succumb to being fleeced for a tenner at a pop up car park because we are mostly operating in a cashless society now, whether we like it or not aren't we?
As luck would have it we found a dodgy side street with a working pay and display machine. I magically produced four pound coins from somewhere and shoved them in the slot. I felt slightly unnerved leaving the old banger on these streets with only one other vehicle for company but needs must. And so I trust all will be well and it is.
It was only a ten minute walk to the Warehouse, passing right in front of a brightly lit up Old Trafford ground. No game on tonight thank goodness. As we queued like cattle then began moving up and down the gates carefully avoiding puddles, we both said cheery hellos and thank yous to the many security guards and stewards lining the way. They were equally friendly and polite despite probably being paid an absolute pittance. We both felt privileged to be able to have some spare cash in order to attend the gig. It's that awful feeling of guilt in doing these things, even though you yourself have worked so very hard, but you know others have much less and cannot even dream of going to see a gig, or show at the theatre or even a film at the cinema. Why are such life enhancing pleasures so expensive and elite? We should all be able to access the arts and creative forces in life in order to escape the harsh realities; to be reinvigorated, inspired and challenged.
It felt so wonderful and strange going to a venue with Mini-Me because I'm so used to doing this with psych undergrad, Romeo, friend or mum. I had forewarned him of my frequent need for toilet breaks but was slightly worried about leaving him alone when nature called as soon as we arrived. Note to self: Numpty he is not five years old anymore. He is growing up beside you and towering above you now.
At the bar:
me: 'What would you like to drink kid? Do you want a WKD?'
son: 'No mum, I don't need alcohol.'
me to bar staff: 'Hiya! Please can we have a lemonade and a coke?'
Bar staff: 'Would you like pints or halves?'
us in unison: 'Halves please. Thank you.'
It's a cool venue which I've never been to before and is standing only. Perfect for a first-time gig goer I think to myself and grin. We made our way forwards and pitched up about ten rows from the front, slightly to our left of centre stage. We soon got chatting to another couple, noticing lots of giggers were holding two pint plastic vessels in their hands. Our half-pints were fizzy sugar shots in comparison. I pointed out the safety exits and felt reassured that there were so many alongside the building, as I sensed my youngest becoming more of a worried man as the crowd got bigger.
me: 'It's OK, just relax, you won't notice the crowds once the music begins,' I tell both of us. It was quite a mixed, lively crowd; some handsome young couples, some older ones, nowhere near a million faces, so it still felt quite intimate given the 5000 capacity.
The support act were NewDad from Ireland. I liked them, they reminded me of The Cure. As their set came to a close, naturally we surged forward as the crowd anticipated the main act appearing from backstage. 'It's a bit like a wave,' I told him, trying to remember when he first learnt to swim. 'Just go with it but stand your ground.' The two-pints party people were revving up a few notches by now and that can be daunting when you're stone cold sober, albeit naturally high on life itself.
We somehow surfed into the middle of the crowd in line with centre stage and still surprisingly had room around us to dance properly. When Paolo sang 'Through the Echoes,' my heart filled up, the flood gates opened and I burst into a million tears, seeing and hearing my son lose it so passionately, lyric for lyric along with an artist he genuinely loves and respects. I love this new song too, it's so beautifully emotive and can often be heard around the house. It begins in his bedroom, reverberates around the bathroom and drifts across the landing. Joining in from the kitchen below our heart-felt harmonies collide somewhere on the staircase. In times like these we are beautifully connected and everything seems blissfully perfect for the duration of the song, (3 minutes 41 seconds).
I cannot express in words alone, (although as a writer surely this is the sole purpose), how absolutely amazing Paolo and his band were live. 10/10 is not adequate enough either. There was so much positive energy whizzing around the Warehouse and yet at least three people had to be rescued from the crowd due to dehydration or something. The gig actually stopped for a few minutes as a man was carried out. Being the better man, Paolo, dedicated his next song to him but I cannot recall what it was now. This is the problem with writing in hindsight. Although I did scribble some notes soon afterwards which I am referring to now at the time of typing but often new perspectives come into sight when you allow some time to pass. It's like brewing a lovely cup of chai tea, waiting long enough before you sip it down smoothly and it makes you feel so special, warm and loved. Timing is everything and I'm choosing not to fear in being too late writing this as I have been writing lots of other stuff lately. It's as though a dam has burst its banks and nothing at all can stop it. I think it's because I resigned from school and decided to be a writer. I hope you feel my love through the words I write.
Rewind to the gig.
Iron Land stood out proudly in the set and we united as audience, band and front man in proclaiming some powerful truths proving that all genres of artists continue to Fight the Power, (ref: song by The Isley Brothers, Parts 1 & 2, 1975 and Public Enemy 1989, plus others should you wish to research for yourselves).
It got to the point where standing up for ourselves started to hurt, which is a huge part of being a human being. It was a blessing we were not wearing any new shoes to enhance further suffering.
son: 'My back's aching.'
me: 'Yeah mine too love.'
He didn't want to hang around afterwards on the off chance of seeing Paolo and possibly getting his autograph or offering thanks for a great gig. How alike yet different we are, I mused, as we detoured home via Manchester City Centre. Somehow, with or without Sat Nav I usually take the road less travelled, miraculously ending up where I am meant to be. Often prayer is involved after I have panicked, shrieked or cursed on occasion. It became clear we had to go via Longdenden through thick fog making it a mysterious journey home along the winding roads. I glimpsed an owl perched on a wall which made me smile even more and helped to keep me awake. Eating chocolate croissants, malt loaf and listening to Jamiroquai (which Mini-Me especially selected), also kept me on high alert. When I remark, 'That was a brilliant first gig to go to kid,' he asks me about all the other gigs I have been to. Quite a few now I think about it and decide to list them in chronological order of first ever to most recent, as far as I can remember correctly:
The Stylisics
Cliff Richard
The Pasadenas
Rumillajta
The Dubliners
Christy Moore
Bryan Adams
Jamiroquai
Simply Red
Radiohead
a-ha
Elvis Costello
Clinic
The Flaming Lips
The Saw Doctors
Kate Rusby
Eliza Carthy
Bellowhead
Soul II Soul
Arrested Development
Stereophonics
Jess Glynne
The Cure
Seth Lakeman
Paul Weller
The Temptations
Showaddywaddy
The Waterboys
Howard Jones
Villagers
Paolo Nutini
Sly 5th Avenue ft. Roberto Verastegui
What an eclectic mix and each at different life stages, in various venues and with someone special beside me. Although I did see The Dubliners solo. It was a challenge I set myself to see if I could do something independently in my early twenties. I found it really exciting going to Huddersfield Town Hall all alone, chatting to the stranger sat beside me, our feet tapping in time together as we sang along to Whiskey in the Jar.
I have not listed the few festivals and DJ sets I have found to be mind-blowing in recent times as this is work in progress.
My last request for now is to keep going to gigs so I can smile, sing, dance and live.
With love,
Susie xx
PS Words written in italics are some of Paolo's songs.
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