Last week while out shopping I caught wind of a duo singing in the streets of Leicester, and what a beautiful sight and sound it was.
Stood basking in their vocals I suddenly felt a deep sadness at just how much I missed live music. Being in the presence of others enjoying the art unfolding before our eyes, the energy felt from the singer and crowd – will we ever experience special moments like this again? or will our carefree enjoyment be stripped away by rules and regulations? only time will tell and I can’t wait for June 21st to come around so I can start enjoying live music again.
I’ve been to many gigs, large and small, some artists I’ve seen several times but for this flashback story I’ll share with you the time I saw Imelda May at De Montfort Hall in Leicester, November 2017.
The Life. Love. Flesh. Blood tour will be one I’ll remember because of the impromtu moments that occurred. Firstly Imelda loved to have a “craic” with the crowd and after a few songs and sips of red wine, she made us all turn to one another to shake hands and introduce ourselves; “I like to think that everyone should connect and if you come to one of my shows you’re the kind of weird person who likes to get to know everyone. It doesn’t matter if you’re Christian, Protestant, Muslim, Jew, Gay, Straight, Bi, Lesbian, Trans, Black or White and if people don’t agree with me you can just bugger off!” she said.
Every song was introduced with a back story on how and why she wrote it for the album, which made the listening experience all the more enjoyable as you knew what you were expecting, you didn’t have to make assumptions on what she was feeling, however when she performed ‘When It’s My Time Lord’ – which sent a chill down my spine making me want to cry – Imelda mentioned it was dedicated to her dying Uncle – “I dedicated that last song to my uncle who’s on his way out…” she said with a faint crack in her voice “He’s a great guy who told me lots of stuff he shouldn’t have but hey.” We were stunned and offered up our feeble, bumbling British cliches of “Oh I’m sorry”, “That’s awful”, “Hope you’re OK!”
But the night didn’t stay gloomy, nope, far from it, for as soon as Imelda had that off her chest she got on with a rip-roaring show which had everyone riled up. Sensing the crowd’s excitement, an impish May yelled “Stuff the security, get out of your seats and come down here I want to see you up and dancing!” to which we needed no further encouragement and descended to the civilised ‘Posh Pit’. Link to the full Review: Imelda May Live at De Montfort Hall article.
So it’s concerts like these that hold dear memories for not only me, but so many others. Just for one moment the person on stage isn’t seen as a superstar and unreachable entity, they’re sharing a snapshot of their lives with you which you don’t have to read about in puffed up papers, you’re there in the moment, sponging up the atmosphere to expel on all and sundry.