I was going to have to write a Royal Albert Hall blog someday, and I've been putting it off for a long time because, as Neil Gaiman said in "Neverwhere" the other night, describing my trip to London and those few days would be like "describing the planet Jupiter as bigger than a duck". It's cliched but I feel like it isn't a thing that can be put into words. But I'm going to give it a firetruckin' good try, because I feel energised and Callie's asleep here in one of my hoodies and I have a malteaser hot chocolate latte drink type thing and I want to write something, and right now there's nothing else I have to give.
A prologue: Last year on February 7th, a few months after I fell in love with Imogen Heap's music I saw her live for the first time in Manchester with some of my friends (Poppy and I had been going to get the tickets, until my mum was like "Stop! I already got those for your birthday! - my parents are awesome a lot of the time). It was a Sunday night, and for the two hours of the concert and about twenty four afterwards I was in a completley blown away and stunned. The next day in school, I could completley recall the sense of being there, not just seeing and hearing but the smell and how my feet felt and the people stood around me. It had changed me and I couldn't grow back into everyday life that quickly, not quite, because I couldn't grasp the idea that it was a concert and it was just a few hours of my life I'd spent somewhere, because it wasn't. It was the happiest I'd ever felt, I think, and there was no way I could get it back, because the strength of my memories were fading fast and every maths lesson and walk home from school was a reminder that it wasn't real, not quite.
Every night on Twitter, there were photos and videos from more shows from the tour and childishly, it only made me feel horrible and my stomach twist at the thought of not being there, like when I was a child, I hated watching the TV on New Year's Eve and I cried. I was at home, not in London with the fireworks.
But there was a solution, it was simple. I had to go again.
At that point in time, there were no other UK tour dates announced in the upcoming future (I had no idea a second leg of UK tour was happening) except there was a show in England in November time.
The only problem was that it was at the Royal Albert Hall.
My parents had shaken it off as a "No", and I accepted that for now. I had until November and I could work on it, but by April, as tickets started to sell out, I panicked. The time I chose to ask them again, God knows why, was in a cable car whilst we were skiing.
My mum was quick to tell me that my dad couldn't take me, it was on a Friday and he shouldn't have to spend his limited days off work doing this, and she couldn't take me either. They hated the idea of me taking a bus or train to London because, of course, they're all filled with murderers and rapists and things, or even being alone there because unlike the town we live in it has buildings larger than two stories and also a crime rate.
My dad vaguely understood, he has the same Thing with music, I think but tried to comfort me by telling me that he didn't go to concerts until he was eighteen. It made it worse. I didn't want to wait. Yes, I could do things when I was older too, but if I had the time and money and could get myself there, why should these strangers get to stop me? Why did I have to go on living like this another four years?
I don't ask for a lot from my parents. I wasn't asking for money or even for them to take me there. I was just asking for them to let me go.
And so, with vague hope, I went to my best friend, Poppy. She loves Imogen Heap too and she wanted to go, but I didn't really think her parents would take us. I only knew that, if push came to shove, she'd be willing to get on a train with me and just disappear to London for a night.
I just didn't really think we'd actually do it.
We had a long talk lying on her trampoline one Tueday afternoon, and she suggested asking her mum, who had a friend around there, if we could stay with her.
And then it all happened very quickly, because we actually could. As a birthday present, I bought Poppy the tickets and her mum got us a discount on the train.
On Royal Albert Hall Friday, it was also part of something called Curriculum Enrichment Week at school, where we wear non-uniform and don't do very much. I packed my bag for London and lined everything I needed up ready at the door. I started to walk to school, plugged my earphones in and started to play "Tidal". I got all the way to the end of my street before I realised I'd forgotten to take any bag at all to school, and I laughed out loud at myself right there in the middle of the street because I was so excited and emotional, there was nobody around, and I felt like I was going to melt into a puddle because of all the things I was feeling.
I didn't have a great morning at school; Curriculum Enrichment Week meant pointless lessons doing things like mummifying fish, Period 2 I spilt acid on my thumb and any time I moved my hand all day it stang. My friend told me to tell a teacher or go to the nurse, but I told him he was insane - surely, they'd send me straight to A&E and I'd spend an afternoon there, later and later for the 6:30 doors closing by the minute.
At 1:15 I came into afternoon registration trembling because I was about to do something badass, I've actually never missed school for a dentist appointment, so leaving midday seemed even more shocking. I gave the receptionist my note and was convinced she'd quiz me or would see something in me but she didn't, and as I got closer to and then passed the school gate, my sad, unexperienced heart was actually racing. I turned the corner, and for a few minutes, any passing cars would have seen a flapping flag of curly hair over a blurred high school uniform whiz down the main road. I got home, I got dressed and did my make-up super-fast, and by ten to two I was waiting outside the house with an umbrella and a suitcase.
Poppy was leaving school at 2, to look less suspicious, at about 2:01, I got paranoid because her mum and her weren't there yet. When they actually arrived, it was 2:10-ish I think. All the way to the station I was on edge. Ever two minutes I checked my bag to make sure that the tickets were still there. And they were.
We very almost missed the train: I would have run everywhere anyway, and I did so even more and I think it annoyed Claire no end. We made it in time, waited on the platform for a while and got coffee. Our train carriage was full of Italian football fans which was fun and interesting and annoying. I specifically remembering one large, muscular and rowdy Italian man falling asleep on his friend's shoulder. Poppy jokingly whispered to me, "Aww, gay men are cute.".
He opened one eye and beamed, looking straight at me (who he thought had spoken) and said in broken English, "No... not gay... he is... he is brother."
We laughed and said "Oh, ok,", then exchanged a Look.
The man opposite us on our table looked like the pixie from the TV show adaptation of Enid Blyton's "The Wishing Chair" and both of us noticed.
We played car games.
It was during NaNoWriMo, and I had my laptop and tried to write stuff, but for once I was too caught up in my life than in someone else's. It WON. So Poppy read some, and kept pointing out things that were situations we'd been in, or I had, some of which were more literal and I hadn't noticed. She was surprised because of how much more I'd used the word "fuck" that I do in real life.
The journey took way less than I expected, then we got to a large tube station (embarassingly, I don't know a lot of names of places in London) where there were also shops. Claire went into an Accesorise store to buy a present for Antonia, her friend who we were staying with, and Poppy and I waited outside. It was spacious, there were people passing swiftly with briefcases and suitcases and so we started singing an impromptu, acapella (though less awesome due to lack of numbers) performance of "Let Go" quite loudly to see if anyone stared at us.
They didn't. Because it's LONDON.
We took the tube a few stations, and being from a small town which is sort of in the country side, we offered up our seats to sweaty business men and women, and other strangers, who shoved past each other with elbows and gladly took them each time.
I like the tube a lot. It's strange.
We stopped at Antonia's house, their family friend who we were staying with. It was small and homely, there were books and movies everywhere. Her husband/boyfriend was there too, a Turkish man named Hassan, but his children weren't, for now. Poppy promised I'd like them even though I really hate little kids most of the time. (I actually don't nowadays, It's just babies).
We ate an entire pack of cheese twists on the couch, because we're teenage girls and we have hormones and hadn't eaten for a few hours. Antonia asked about the concert, who we were going to see.
"Imogen Heap!" we blubbered.
"I've never heard of her."
"No," I said. "You won't have done. She's awesome."
"Well, if she can fill the Royal Albert Hall."
We took the tube there and en route, I found a newspaper on the side of the fairly empty carriage. On one of the pages, I found a small piece about the Albert Hall show and tore it out and placed it in the envelope where my tickets were.
There was panic when we got to the tube station: we were late, there was a certain time in the first half of the show our tickets wouldn't be let into. And although half of the people I was with I didn't know that well, I wanted to yell at them because they weren't running, but I reigned it in and we got there, just in time. On the way through side streets, we got lost and I ran up to some strangers asking if they were going to see Immi. They were. I was so glad I laughed.
Note anything over-confident I did in this episode was because the whole night I was overemotional and crazy. It was everything I'd been waiting for for the last seven months.
I wish I'd walked up to the Royal Albert Hall slowly taking it in, like a kid on the run-up to the big pink Disneyland Paris castle, but I didn't, we ran. At the same time Poppy was having a fight with her mum, who was planning on asking the maitre d what time the show ended (it would be about 11, we'd told her to come for us at 1 so we could hang around and meet some awesome people). We ended up settling for 11:30, though later on bumped it up to 12.
They went off to a restaurant and this was it, we were on our way in and a woman was taking our tickets and we were in the lift with a couple in their mid-fifties. They were smiley and glamorous, and I squee'd at the idea that they were Immi fans and, so rarely, all of the people around me were.
We got to the top floor, ran to a way in which was the wrong one and to a second. Poppy laughed at me because I was sprinting everywhere.
And then we found the door and walked in to the Royal Albert Hall.
I wasn't sure what I'd imagined, but this was more. Mainly it was just much, much bigger. Did you know that there are around 140 billion galaxies, which is the number of frozen peas you can fit outside the Royal Albert Hall. The Royal Albert Hall is really, really, big.
There were big, pink mushrooms on the ceiling and the stage was tiny fron where we were sat. At the previous two Imogen Heap shows I'd been to were in university academy halls and there was one, big tree in the middle. Today we had the big tree and, around where the orchestra would be sat, smaller trees. I counted. There were ten in total.
And then, much quicker than I expected, Imogen walked on to the stage, dressed in sparkly conductor's attire, and Love The Earth film began.
She directed the crowd and for the first part, the whole of the top section was supposed to breathe outwards in a sort of Mexican wave and nobody close to us did except for Poppy and I, of course.
During Love The Earth I cried twice, and I don't know why. Two years ago, I wouldn't have listened to a piece of classical music all the way through, let alone been moved to tears.
A moment during in it, there was a clip of some sparkly water, just for a second, and I'm still not sure whether it was my clip I or not - I've no idea if they'd have contacted me or not, seeing as so many people's videos were included, and maybe I'll never find out, but I think that it could have been.
There was an interlude before the second half, which she'd said would be the "normal, Imogen Heap singer-songwriter part". Here's the time-lapse between the two.
And so, I gave Poppy the explanation that I owed her and she told me something which was a big deal to and I do hate talking like this here, but I sort of think of it as the closest to a heart-to-heart conversation that I've had, because right in the Royal Albert Hall, the moment we said it'd be for weeks, with two middle-aged men either side of us we blubbered away about relationships and sex and and love and stuff and didn't realise until afterwards just how many people had possibly been listening, and not out of choice.
I thought about all of the people I was in the same room as, a strange combination like my best friend and my favourite musician and Thomas Ermacora and people like my awesome friend Emily from Twitter. And there are others I know now were there and I didn't at the time, like Guy Sigsworth (we found out later in the show he'd been playing in the orchestra at the beginning!). Similar too, Immi's mum had been singing in the choir and this makes me smile.
When Imogen came on, I almost wasn't ready.
The first song she played was "The Walk", you hear the beginning and the time lapse. The second song was "Swoon", during which me and Poppy smiled and laughed, that day she'd learnt that the lyrics in a part in the middle of the song are nowhere near as meaningful or complex as she'd thought,
"This is where I was going to sing your name over and over again,
But I chickened out at the final minute, cause I thought you probably wouldn't like it."
Imogen was wonderful and lively and clever and talked about the songs and stories behind them a lot more than usual, she'd done the same the last time I saw her in Liverpool. During "Come Here Boy" she talked about a teacher she liked at music school, after this she played "Wait It Out", and talked about Zach Braff and Hawaii, and during the song both of us cried. The next song was "First Train Home", which as usual, got off to a bad start and then came out beautifully, and it sounded different to any other time I'd heard it. "Little Bird" was lovely, as was "Canvas" (in which I think she played a little of "The Fire") and I was glad she played "Aha!" - the second show I went to, she didn't. "Earth" was amazing, the first time I'd heard it, done all with voices and a brilliant beatboxer I didn't realise until after the show was Schlomo. I cried during "Speeding Cars" because of how appropriate it was at the time, "Let Go" was incredible, and special because we sang along and rocked out a little even though the people around us were sat still in their seats and listening, "Let Go" I think is the song that led me in.
I love "Just For Now", but I was a little disappointed in the Royal Albert Hall performace, not Immi's fault at all, it was just that the two shows I've been to audiences have sung along enthusiastically. I know that we were sat up and far away, but I almost wanted to say something to the peoples at around me for their disappointingly little amount of spirit.
I started filming a little of "Between Sheets" and I'll post it if I ever find it back, as with "Goodnight and Go" which is one of my favourite songs - Immi said that she didn't realise so many people liked it, and this shocked me no end. I may remember crying during this song as well.
I love "Headlock" live because it's so different and so much more drums and bass and piano than the album version, more a combination of strings and electronica, both are excellent for different reasons. Then she announced she was playing "Tidal", the last song with the band and I knew that it was coming to an end, it's always the fake last song before encores, but I didn't mind because I wanted afterwards to take how happy I felt out into the world. It's my favourite live, I think, and it didn't fail to disappoint, the keytar solo kicked ass.
She walked off then came back and played "The Moment I Said It" with just piano and drums, and it was beautiful, and then "Hide and Seek". Poppy was crying, because it was the last song, and I usually do at this point but I just sat and sort of absorbed it and I was in a trance the whole time we were walking out.
I don't remember the order the next few things happened, but I remember it going a bit like this.
We got to the door and I realised I'd left my umbrella inside, so we tried to go back and get it but they wouldn't let us in and instead we were directed the the stage door. We were waiting out there a long time and laughed about how accidentally lucky this was, imagining Imogen Heap emerging with the umbrella and saying "Is this yours?" but that didn't happen, instead a security guard thought we were creepy and made us leave, so we tried another desk and they didn't have it.
We gave up on my umbrella so started walking all away around the edge, from outside. It was pouring with rain, and on the way I stopped and bought a shirt. I think we'd agreed it wasn't likely we'd meet Imogen Heap tonight, and so as we passed the tour bus (I recognised it from outside the Liverpool show) Poppy decided to be badass and touch the tourbus.
And I know it isn't that awesome, but it seemed like a good think to do at the time and so I ran in the rain and touched the side and kept running and tried to feel adreneline like someone was chasing me.
And there's my claim to fame. I've touched Imogen Heap's tour bus.
After that we found a door where people were queuing outside, I asked a guy if they were waiting to meet Immi and he said yeah. He was American.
We waited there for a while, talked about all the stuff from before a little more, but it got to 12 and we had to leave before we turned into pumpkins or just before the last tube left, and so we ran to our friend.
Poppy said, "If she comes, tell her that Poppy and Lizzie give their love."
And he said, "Lizzie and who?"
"Poppy."
He smiled. "Ok. I will do."
And I high-fived him because I wanted to and we ran for the train and just made it.
We went home and Hassan talked to us about the show and gave us Turkish delight and I showed him my shirt.
Then all of them went to bed, Poppy and I settled on the couch and on the floor. I got out my laptop and I wrote to reach my target for NaNo that day and then we went to sleep.
The next morning their children were there, Adam and Marcus, and they were seriously lively considering one of them had been throwing up all night and watched TV with them. Poppy was right, I did like them. We went for a walk in the park, I accidentally flipped over a swing and hit my head (I didn't tell the kids that - they just saw me do a trick and thought I was awesome). Then I had my first ever lunch at Nando's and we got the train home.
That took two hours and fourteen minutes to write and I feel good now but I want to go to bed.
Goodnight.
- Lizzie
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