Music

Wake me up

I enjoyed Avicii’s music for what it was – kind of feel-good but saccharine dance tunes. So I wasn’t especially impacted when I found out he had died, I just thought it was sad that someone so young had passed away.

Yet this evening, waiting for my train home, I had a dance music playlist on because it’s Electronic Tuesday, natch, and his song “Wake me up” came on. It was probably the first time I had ever listened to the lyrics properly and they’re actually quite beautiful.

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Journal, Music

Pure evenings

Back in August 2003 I attended The Leeds Festival, the equivalent of The Reading Festival but held in northern England and easier to get tickets to. Unfortunately, the evening we were supposed to drive to York to stay with our friends before the festival began, I suffered an eye injury.

Although the eye doctor had reluctantly agreed that I could attend the event, her conditions were that I shouldn’t drink or be physically active. Drinking and bouncing around are two of the numerous things that make music festivals fun, so although I put a brave face on things it wasn’t the experience I hoped for.

On Friday we saw a few good bands and paid fleeting attention to the one album wonders making up the numbers. All the while I felt like I was there in a somewhat observational role, even for bands I was a fan of, like Sum 41 and Good Charlotte. (Don’t judge, this was the early naughties!)

The next day followed a similar pattern with a long wait for the headliners, Linkin Park. Then, as dusk approached, Placebo took to the stage and just absolutely blew me away. I didn’t have to be drunk or jump around to enjoy their performance. It was more than enough to lean back, fill my ears with the music and let it all soak in.

As the sun set it was suggested we pretend it was daybreak instead, while the band played their anthem; Pure Morning. It was a feast for the senses and an absolutely magical moment that made me a fan for evermore.

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Music

The Who at The Hydro

Earlier this year, when the tickets originally went on sale for the Who, kicking off their 50th anniversary tour at The Hydro, I scoffed at the price and made my peace with the fact I’d probably never get to see them live. Fast forward to three weeks before the gig and, by virtue of a workmate who had tickets but now couldn’t make it, I jumped at the chance and paid him the substantial face value to secure the pair of them for me and my mate Adrian.

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