Treetop Flyers play Manchester's Night/Day Cafe

TREETOP FLYERS - Night/Day Cafe, Manchester - 15th November 2013

 Country/folk/rock band Treetop Flyers have been playing together in various formats for a couple of years, and won the Glastonbury Festival Award for Emerging Talent in 2011, releasing their debut album “The Mountain Moves” earlier this year. 

I meet lead-singer Reid, guitarist Sam and drummer Tomer drinking beer on the saggy sofas of Manchester’s Night/Day Café’s dressing room, where tonight they’re playing one of the last shows of their headliner UK tour, having wrapped up Bristol and London gigs earlier this week.

After having to part with their old bass-player over the last month, they say that their performances feel different, yet in ways better than ever before. “I think we’re a lot more relaxed now,” says Reid, “We had a gig in London the other day and someone said “That was the best you’ve ever sounded”, and we feel like a different unit and a lot better.”

Sam describes a growth in audiences, and a warmer reception compared to previous tours. “We’ve seen at this tour a slight lift; we’ve had more people at our gigs. When you do sound check and it’s an empty room, it’s like oh God, what’s going to happen. We’ve done enough empty rooms in our time. It was a scramble to get everybody ready for this tour, but the music feels brilliant, and so we are actually really grateful just to play, it’s all just been a tremendous experience.”

They tell me how they met: an amalgamation of various London bands. “Mine and Tomer’s band fell apart, so as we’d known Sam for years we started to get everyone in a room with [bassist] Laurie as well, purely just to have a laugh,” Reid explains, “and I think deep down we knew that it would work.”

Sam interrupts, “Reid always had an idea that him and myself would play together. I didn’t really realise that, I thought we’d just get drunk together,” he jokes. “But when we got into rehearsals and messed around, we quite quickly realised that we could all bring something to the table and the music could be born. It was like a reinvention for all of us, coming together.”

Over the last few years, a lot of writing together, a lot of intense touring, has led to an intensity comparable to an actual relationship. The writing process for their first album, “The Mountain Moves”, has consisted of a lot of fighting, and a lot of painful honestly.

“It’s like when you have a girlfriend and you have an argument, and you have to take a few days to make it up to her,” Reid tells me. “It’s like having four girlfriends.”

I ask about something I’m always intrigued with regarding bands – as much as it’s a relationship, do they see their project as a business too? And does this business have ethics?

Tomer says that this is something they consider more and more now. “Sometimes you don’t really have a choice, you know, which is unfortunate. I think you have to compromise in order to get anywhere in life in general, but there are definitely things we wouldn’t do.”

“The argument sinks with doing adverts and stuff like that," says Sam, "That is quite a different landscape than it was when you dream of being in a band. Five or ten years ago it wasn’t very cool to do an advert. But if you’re on the inside and you look at how business works, there’s very limited options to make money but also have that kind of exposure. A good example is The Lumineers. Do the ad, take the money off the devil, and then all of a sudden you’ll be playing two thousand capacity gigs around the world – you’ve got to do what you can to get past a certain level. “

Tomer explains that an old band of his, in the States, went through that same ethical dilemma. “Our singer wanted to turn down a chance to be on an ad campaign for Coors Light,” he says. “They were going to put a free download on a billion bottle caps. A billion. And some of the bands that were involved were big bands, and they asked us to be involved with it. He didn’t want to do it – he said, ethically speaking, that he didn’t want to be involved with Coors because they had something to do with the Nazis in World War Two. I think it depends on your personal ethics.”

I ask what these ethics are – to them, personally, and where they would draw the line. “I wouldn’t want to endorse politicians,” says Tomer. “I feel like it’s a bad place to get involved – I see when bands get upset when politicians use their music in their campaign, Reagan did it in the 80s with [Springsteen’s] “Born in the USA”. That song is actually a massive criticism of power in the United States and politics. I know that Springsteen wasn’t very happy about it.”

“We could re-write “Things Will Change”, and it could be “Things Won’t Change,” says Sam.

They throw about names of musicians they think have successfully walked the line between channelling a political message without it becoming cheap – Woodie Guthrie, and the Beatles’ “Blackbird”. “It’s clearly a civil rights song, but you can listen to it and it just sounds like a song about a caged bird,” says Tomer. “Many great songs reflect on the troubles that people come into in life, I think that’s the best way you can delve into people. Music is about reflecting on life.”

And it always come back to heartbreak, Reid says, that is the most powerful force behind their music, and, decidedly, the majority of pop songs. “It’s really intense. You can’t lie about it. When you feel it, the world just disappears around you. It can hit you really hard. It’s the purest emotion you can ever feel.”

“All of us combined have lost so much in the last couple of years,” adds Sam. “I think the band is a big part of the longevity. We’ve lost girlfriends and family members and lots of things but we’re all still here, looking at the same ugly people.”

The loss of Reid’s father played a large part in the creation of “The Mountain Moves” – his ashes were actually used as an instrument on one track. “I remember telling the producer and he was like, that’s so fucking cool, good idea, he said to me, you’ve got to do that. We never forgot it, we put it really high in the mix.”

It's an emotional experience watching them play that night, with all these things still fresh on the mind: their live set is so tight that it's hard to believe they've recently replaced their bass player. With the Mumford hiatus going on, I'm sure it won't be long until critics are putting hype around risingly successful folk bands like this, but I'm keen to forget that and see them for what they are - clearly very close friends, smart guys, making music that is full of heart.

You can check out more of Treetop Flyers here 
Photos from Rachael Farrington.

Live from Jodrell Bank - The Transmissions - 30th August 2013

I’ve wanted to get to a gig at Jodrell Bank – a space station and observatory which is pretty close to where I live, ever since they began their series of one day festivals “The Transmissions” in 2011 – their stage has seen the likes of Elbow, the Flaming Lips and Lianne La Havas. When I heard Sigur Rós were playing I was sure they were the perfect band to play this perfect and slightly bizarre venue.

It was a really well-organised event, with a lively end-of-summer festival atmosphere despite occasional spells of rain and a bit of a different crowd than most festivals – there were a lot of families and it was in general a bit of a richer crowd, though people definitely weren’t cold or unresponsive. The observatory had set up a Science Arena in the adjoining field with demonstrations and stalls, and it was nice if not a little weird being able to escape the main area to eat a tray of potato skins and learn about H2O powered cars.

First up was Nik Colk Void, whose abrasive art-noise effects it is hard to believe are created by just the three members and their intricate electric guitar/bow work. Personally, I wasn't massively into it but could definitely see how what they're doing is clever (and the weird space sound effects along with the bizarre venue made the whole thing feel like being in an episode of Doctor Who for sure).

I'd heard a lot of both good and bad things about Daughter's live performance so was interested to go decide what I thought. Generally, they were sounding great: the project as a whole admittedly rides on Elena Tonra's gorgeous and ethereal vocals - their set had a few hiccups with obvious technical difficulties, and I do feel like whilst they’ve got a really lovely sound going on, they don't quite have the songs yet. Their hit single "Youth", however, definitely had the front rows singing along.

Poliça are from the States, and are at the top of their game, having just released their album “Shulamith” (named after feminist writer Shulamith Firestone) and having had Justin Vernon of Bon Iver call them “the best band I’ve ever heard”. I thought they were great – lead singer Shanny Leaneagh was brilliantly energetic and cool, and their electro synth-pop sound was in general really bright and refreshing.

With some very theatrical control room messages, it was announced that the Lovell Telescope - of 76 metres in diameter and focal length of 22.9m – would be turned around for Sigur Rós’ set. That moment was truly spectacular, the strange mixture of people making up the audience: the families, the kids smoking weed, the girls in flower crowns and middle class couples – staring up at the sky in union and with wonder, like children walking into Disneyland for the first time, and thegigantic radio telescope was revealed in its full frontal glory, to a soundtrack of audio from Jodrell Bank’s footage from the last fifty years, specially selected by the band.

Sigur Rós took to the stage, modestly and their set wasn’t overshadowed, nor disjointed with the spectacular light show that incorporated both the large screen above the stage and the majestic Lovell Telescope behind it. For it was the perfect backdrop for the world they were creating – it was at times the moon, the tide, a shadow moving through golden fields.

And their music compliments it perfectly, because neither imbalanced the other but was one entity. If you listen to Sigur Rós, you’ll probably know what I mean when I say that their music makes you feel like you’re having some kind of profound and epiphanous realisation about something – it captivates your mind, turns any moment into a movie, and the visuals they use in their show illustrate and add to that beautifully.

Lead singer Jónsi’s sings in gorgeous falsetto, his voice is one you can never mistake, it’s just pure as snow and beautifully clean and clear – and during the set he moves between playing guitar, and also flute.

I spent a lot of the latter half of their performance stood near the front, trying to find out quite what their set up is, and all I concluded was really the fleet of musicians that make up Sigur Rós changes throughout their set – at times there being about ten musicians on the stage, with horn and strings player coming on and off.

Highlights included “Hoppípolla”, their biggest hit – to which the crowd response was insanely joyous and warm, and a brilliant rendition of “Sæglópur” – the bass just gives me chills every time.

It was, actually, so nice to attend a show where people’s eyes aren’t utterly focused on the people on the stage– heads turned as lasers and spotlights threw gazes to the trees and the sky – although, sadly, it wasn’t a particularly clear night - and in a way I think it pushed the crowd to pay more attention to the music than actually looking at the band. Sigur Rós truly brought their world to Jodrell Bank, through a whirling technicolour journey of sound and visual, and the life in their set more than made up for the lack of stars.

Bo Bruce at Neil McCormick's Moxafrica Fundraiser - Wednesday 6th March, 2013 - Islington Assembely Rooms, London

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Bo Bruce is someone I've written about a lot on here, but for those of you who don't know, she came in second place on The Voice UK last year. Since, she's broken away from the path of a typical reality TV show runner-up, signing to Mercury and working with the likes of Snow Patrol, Joel Pott and Danny O'Donoghue on new album "Before I Sleep".

This week, I went to London to see her perform at Moxafrica, a fundraiser gig for tuberculosis cures, held by the Telegraph's music critic Neil McCormick. She played alongside acts such as David Gray, The Magic Numbers, and Gabriella Cilmi.

Bo's performance followed those by country band Buckshot Soup and one from McCormick himself, her drifting onto the stage, adorned with trademark bangles and rings. She opened with "Save Me", and the upcoming first single from her new album. It's a heartbreak song, tonight's acoustic performance giving more focus on her voice, soaring falsetto notes, it glitters with Sinead O'Connor-esque lilts and glottal strokes.

Viewers of The Voice UK will remember Bo for her cover of Coldplay's "Charlie Brown", that iconic moment of her twirling in a white dress, in a television studio lit up with the colours of the rainbow, "Glowing in the dark". The original arrangement is colourful and explosive, echoing the tones of "Mylo Xyloto", all keyboards and bouncing reverb. But tonight's rendition was just a piano and acoustic guitar, softer, whispers of what it was. A song like this, about being high, and feeling liberated, produced with layers of sonic joy and lyrics of heartfelt desperation can spin off into so many different directions, and the hint of sorrow gives it another kind of beauty.

"The Fall" is about losing someone, something huge and life changing that will weave its way through the undertones of meaning and honesty in every song on "Before I Sleep". But it means to you what it will: a song about loss, and ultimately survival. I've been lucky enough to witness two performances of this song now: once in a small venue, intimate and full of fans, once in a hall of unknowing strangers who'd come out to raise money for tuberculosis by buying expensive drinks. The effect of stunned silence has been almost the same each time.

The Coronas Danny O'Reilly, and violinist Gita Langley (who recently played with Muse, opening the BRIT Awards) were welcomed to the stage for the final song, "Speed the Fire", another from the album. It's lyrics are nostalgic and hold the bittersweet imagery of everything going up in flames.

"Before I Sleep" is due out on April 29th, avaliable to preorder here.

* Image belonging to Lisa

'After the show, you cannot sing wherever you want'

This is "Sing" - The Dresden Dolls

Whenever I walk away from a gig after it's over, I think about how these moments of euphoria all of the people in that room just experienced are falling apart, drifting away, and we have no choice but to welcome it. It's just crazy to me. We are surrounded by each other, the band have just left the stage, the last song is still bouncing around our heads and it is something so many want to cling on to. And then you're getting further and further away. Away from the stage, past the merch table, walking past all of these people in the car park or outside the venue that saw what you saw, felt what you felt, and getting further away from it, then getting in the car, on the train, on the bus, in the taxi to leave. They're getting further away. The cars on the road aren't all theirs. The people on the street aren't all them. And then you pass a certain point and they're gone.

The other night after I saw Florence, there were a carful of drunk guys singing "Dog Days Are Over" out of the windows, and so I joined in as I passed. And they slurred "woo"'s. And it felt like clinging on.

There is no option but to get off of the rollercoaster and stand on the ground and go back to real life. You can't live like this all the time.

These last couple of months and especially this last week have been surreal. Concert after concert, spending money I can't really afford to spend and it has been so perfect. Last Friday I finally went to see Mumford and Sons, which I wrote about, and then Monday was another show which I should have some kind of hopefully coherent write-up of tomorrow. The thing that happened today was something different, that I'm not allowed to talk about for a while, but it was unexpectedly amazing.

It is so weird to think that this is my life now, this is the thing that keeps me going. I'm probably annoying to be around now, most long winded conversations with me involve me telling an anecdote about a recent gig I went to. My room is covered in setlists, tickets, and you'll most likely find me wearing a paper venue bracelet I don't have the heart to take off yet.

I don't know if this is a good thing to hold on to, because it's such a fleeting source of happiness, it's not something you can rely on all of the time. It's a few months now, I think, until I'm going to a show again, and it's going to be strange and I'm going to miss it but there are going to be so many more.

I guess it's just strange returning to real life and all the things I have ignored. I'm not sure I'm ready to leave Wonderland.

Regina Spektor - Wednesday 4th July 2012 - O2 Apollo, Manchester


I consider Regina Spektor one of the first musicians that I discovered for myself. It was when I was eleven or twelve years old, and I'd just gone into high school, that I was really starting to find music for myself, not just from other people. There had been the pop music my friends listened to, and my dad had always played me his favourite records - Queen and Fleetwood Mac and Emerson, Lake and Palmer, but when I heard Regina Spektor's "Fidelity" on a TV show and went to listen to more of her music she joined Paolo Nutini and Scouting For Girls in the first music that, to my younger self, was really mine.

Last night, at the O2 Apollo in Manchester, I went to see Regina Spektor play for the first time, kind of in a madcap rush after only planning it a few hours before.

Spektor opened by walking onto the stage and calling out a vaguely surprised "Hi!" to the audience; the old converted cinema almost completely full. She stood still and began singing, "Ain't No Cover", completley acapella, tapping the microphone with her fingers for percussion and, other than that, her huge and powerful vocals carried the melody. And throughout the night, when she played piano and when she was accompanied by the drummer, cellist and keyboard player that made up her band, her voice was what led the music, never drowned out or lessened.

Because she doesn't just sing, her voice is an instrument in so many ways - she plays with it, makes drum noises for percussion, adds whispers and draws gasps for breath.

Highlights included the lively and thoughtful "On The Radio", playful "Dance Anthem of the 80s", songs from Regina's new record, especially "Don't Leave Me (Ne Me Quittez Pas)" and some of the slower and more pressing songs, like "Eet" and "Blue Lips". She sang "Call Them Brothers", a duet with Only Son/Jack Dishel, who played guitar and had opened the show for her. He's also her husband.

After "Don't Leave Me (Ne Me Quittez Pas)", Regina Spektor apologised to the audience and said that she'd hurt a bone in her throat - this had been going on for a few songs, and she went off stage to see what was wrong, in which she told the crowd, "Talk amongst yourselves about something interesting." There was a kind of hilariously awkward ten to fifteen minutes in which everyone waited for an announcement, how serious things were or whether the rest of the show would happen.

But after a wait, Spektor came back, playing a further six songs. Earlier in the show someone had been calling out for her to play "Fidelity", to which she replied that she hadn't rehearsed that one, muttering, "I write them, I forget them..." So when she played those opening chords of "Fidelity", a cheer erupted.

She closed with "Samson", which was so stunning and soft and left, taking an elegant bow.

Regina Spektor's hands dance with the piano. She's kooky and bright as the melodies and the lyrics she writes, and I can't help but say that everything about her dreamy yet ladylike persona reminds me of a Disney princess.

She still has some dates to play on her European tour, and her new record, "What We Saw From The Cheap Seats", is absolutley brilliant.

Wakey!Wakey! - Tuesday October 11th 2011 - Night/Day Cafe, Manchester

Wakey!Wakey! is a band started by Michael Grubbs, a singer and pianist from Virginia. One of my friends introduced me to their music because she heard it in a TV show called One Tree Hill. I love their record Almost Everything I Wish I'd Said The Last Time I Saw You... because every song is just so different.

We were late for the concert, doors opened at seven thirty and we stumbled in after getting lost in Manchester at about ten o clock, but luckily they'd only played about two songs when we walked in, I'm guessing they started that late because there were two support acts and I think the venue probably had no curfew.

I'd never been to Night/Day cafe before, and it's a really special place; basically just a bar with live music sometimes, but there are posters and shirts and signed things all over the walls, and I felt oddly welcome even though I don't think I spoke to anyone that worked there. It held about eighty people that night, I think

Michael Grubbs played a keyboard, there were an arrangement of other musicians as his band that seemed to wander on and off the stage at will. He wore a plain white shirt, his hair was messy and everything about the show was so relaxed. He shouted across the room to a singer who'd opened for him, who was in the crowd, interacted with the audience, took pictures and told so many stories sometimes it seemed like he was forgetting to play songs. I laughed so much during a story he told about a karaoke bar in Toronto that there were little tears in my eyes.

But it didn't touch the music. Everything was perfect, the whole band in sync with each other and the violinist was particularly amazing in "Take It Like A Man".

Before we go to shows together, my friend Becky and I always predict little things that will happen, and I said he'd play an ironic cover of a song like Rihanna's "Umbrella". I was partly right, but it was "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper, which is even more awesome.

"Light Outside" had to be my favourite - it was two or three songs after we got in and I remember hearing those first few notes and just grinning because we hadn't missed it during the time we weren't there, and because so many people in the room were singing along with the song I love, and save for my worst days.

He did a meet and greet type thing afterwards, and as we stood around a few metres from him I didn't really feel starstruck or nervous, maybe because although I knew his music I didn't know much about the person until that day. I was planning what I was going to say to him and I had been throughout the show. About a really crappy night I had, about things being better and going home after everyone was gone and sleeping and listening to "Light Outside" and not knowing how to feel, but how that song made me feel like someone knew.

I didn't tell him that, I chickened out. But I did get my video camera and ask him to say something for my friend, who'd introduced me to his music and couldn't go. I still have it on my camera. We took a picture, he signed my ticket and we went home.

I wished I'd told him about "Light Outside" and how it's mine, because he wrote it and deserved to know. I kind of told myself that it was the situation, just like what's happened with me meeting heroes before, that the backs of bars and studios with people around are places for signing tickets and spelling names but it's hard to stumble out the words you really want to say, and I'm not sure he would have known how to reply.

I hope that Wakey!Wakey! stays at this level of fame forever, because it suits Michael Grubbs' charisma, to be able to tell stories and to sing songs.

Death Cab For Cutie are, according to Wikipedia*, an American indie rock band and the people I know who've heard of them either knew of one of their singles, "I Will Follow You Into The Dark", or have the Twilight soundtrack album.

I went to see them at Manchester Academy on Monday, and I although I was excited it wasn't as much as usually when I go to shows, mainly because I really like this band but don't know a lot of their songs, aside from the album Plans. I obviously would've enjoyed it a lot more, like with any concert, if I knew more of their music, and honestly for the first few songs I was disappointed by the fact that I wasn't recognising things (I know it was my fault).

Then, about four or five songs in, the band left the stage and Ben Gibbard picked up an acoustic guitar and Poppy and I just looked at each other and beamed, knowing he was going to play the song we knew the most.

He was strumming the intro chords over and over, and it struck me then how charistmatic he actually was. Whilst the rest of the band were talented and relevant and definitely a part of the show, from what I saw Death Cab For Cutie is so much more driven solely by its lead singer than some other bands. Not as much as IAMX, for example, but he did more than hold it together, he spoke and sang and honestly seemed like it was mostly just him thoroughly enjoying himeslf and interacting with the audience.

"I Will Follow You Into The Dark" was one of my favourite moments of anything, ever, I think. You could barely hear Gibbard's voice, because the whole audience were singing along, to every single word, and it's things like that that make me think I'm so much less alone in this place sometimes.

I felt so much more attentive after that. Somehow we were shoved very close to the front, and ended up in what I guess was the mosh-pit. My shoes are slightly torn, we jumped up and down a lot and sang along, all the time, because when everyone around you is belting out the chorus at the top of their lungs it's so much easier to learn the words.

They played "Summer Skin" and "Crooked Teeth" (one of my favourite moments!) and "Soul Meets Body" (possibly my favourite baseline EVER) and their new single which I vaguely knew, called "You Are A Tourist".

I don't know the name of the song, I'll google it in the next few days, but there was a really memorable moment where, with everyone around me, I was shouting the words to a song I was only just getting to know. And it went;

"WE ARE ALL THE SAME,
UNDERNEATH THE SYCAMORE!"

And there's something remarkable about yelling that with hundreds of people around you, when nobody can hear their own voice.

They played another song I didn't know and said it was a request, and a boy near me started screaming and smiling, and it was obvious that it was his request and his song. And nobody around seemed to recognise or like it as much as a lot of the others (you notice differences when you're so intensley close to the heart of the crowd) but watching him dancing and smiling so hard he looked worn out, with his friends, was sort of amazing. Poppy said that when that was happening, a woman stood behind us whispered "Freak." and that sort of ruined my memory of it.

I got a little teary-eyed at the end, and couldn't really form a sentence for a minute or so, then we were going to wait outside but had to go to the hospital.

I booked the tickets for that concert at a time there didn't seem to be a lot else going on locally. And as it got closer I thought I regretted it a bit, not because I don't really like the band but because people I'm a bigger fan of or more dedicated to started announcing tour dates. But I'm really really glad I went, I've developed much more of a love for Death Cab For Cutie, and for their audience, from the camp boy headbanging to the bearded guy beside me who between every song yelled "DEATH CAAAAAAAAB", and every single voice singing along with "I Will Follow You Into The Dark".

<3

*Hey this is cool, the picture at the top of their Wikipedia page at the moment is from my concert. :D

So last week, on Wednesday, I went to see a band called Noah and the Whale.
It very nearly didn't happen - I was going to go with some friends from my Guides but it got quite short notice, then I was going to go with someone else who couldn't travel, and then on Sunday when I was talking to myself about how a different show near to us had sold out, my dad offered to go with me, which he does occasionally - he has the live music thing that I do too, but I think he's either learnt to control it or it isn't as important to him. See now I'm being judgemental.

My very first memory of Noah and the Whale music must have been in 2007 - that summer, I was eleven and on the way home from shopping with my mum and my friend when their song "Five Years Time" came on the radio. And I liked it because it made me happy - sometimes music could be that simple then, and I suppose it still can.

I don't remember thinking about their music much, except for singing "And it was fun, fun, fun..." in my head from time to time, up until last year, when because of a friend I listened to "Give A Little Love" and loved it, because of the way the chorus repeated itself in my head and how adaptable it's lyrics were.
And then, at a time that was just right for me personally, I came across "Blue Skies" ... the night I heard it for the first time, it was exactly what I needed.
Their most recent singles have been "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N" and "Tonight's The Kind of Night", and I love both of them despite the new album, "Last Night On Earth" being so different... not better or worse, just different. I'd say there's a greater variety of instruments, it's also much more cheerful.

On Wednesday night we drove down to their show in Leeds. I had my GCSE French speaking exam the next day and went anyway, because I'm really responsible with my priorities, so I ended up having to revise the whole way. We were almost late for the show.

I won't talk about the support act just now.

The venue was a student union, so I was squished in with a lot of university students in their twenties, all of who I was weirdly taller than. And I love places like that... the way your legs ache from standing and you stop noticing after a while, your shoes are sticky with bear, you're sweating and it's dark and everyone around you feels what you do.

As the band were coming on, a melody called "Paraside Stars" was playing - I didn't know what it was at the time, I only bought "Last Night On Earth" this weekend - but I swear I felt it all of the way through my body, and that's why I love intimate venues.

They played "Give A Little Love" first and in the first few moments of it my thoughts sort of went...
guitarist, keyboard, drummer, violin
HAHA THEIR HAIR IS ALL AWESOME
woah they're playing this song that's so weird i thought it'd be i i i don't know omigod it's all beautifuuuuuulll
woah charlie fink is different in real life
his voice...

The second song I didn't know (I wish I'd bought "Last Night On Earth" before and not just known two songs from it!) but after that they played "Blue Skies".
And I remember these two guys close to me were drunk, singing loudly and dancing together, and usually it would've annoyed the hell out of me but for some silly reason it didn't.
Some audiences make me ashamed to be a part of - because they're too loud or rude, or too quiet and uninviting, but this was just right. It was the most responsive audience I've been a part of - the people around me were singing along with every line of every single song, and I just felt proud.

After this I'm forgetting the order, but I remember some time during the middle they played a song I didn't know called "Wild Thing", but was singing along with quickly as if I did, and it's funny because by now after hearing it more times my conception as to what the lyrics are about is nothing to do with what I thought then...

They played what Charlie called "the quiet romantic part of the set" - the slower songs, like "My Door Is Always Open" in one section of about three or four, and I thought that was an odd way to do things but I liked it.

He then announced, somewhat sarcastically, "Now this is the high energy dance party section of the show." And then opened this with "Roll Away Your Stone", which I was dancing to, and so was everyone around me. This is one of my favourites, and I missed Laura Marling's harmony less than I thought I would, mainly because the audience sang it too.

The only form of live performance I'd seen from them was just Charlie Fink and Laura Marling doing an acoustic set in the back of a cab - I'm tired, but look it up on Youtube - and it was so strange to me that then he seemed more nervous and reserved than in front of an entire crowd. He was probably one of the most charismatic performers I've seen - he would point with his finger whilst singing, as if addressing each of us personally, and constantly throw and catch the mic stand.
And the whole band were so vibrant and together and just excited to be playing, which is always a bonus. Every song they were perfectly in time with one another. It was just so lovely to see how much they looked like they were enjoying it.

"Five Years Time" was instantly recognisable and everyone did that thing when they realise and then cheer. It was one of my favourite moments of the entire show, because everyone in the room was singing along and halfway through "Urby" - the keyboard/ guitarist - was whilstling the refrain and I don't know why but it made me smile.

I love the gradual pace and rise in "Tonight's The Kind Of Night" and the live performance was perfect. They played after that a song called "First Day of Spring" I hadn't heard, because I only have the first album, but it was beautiful. That one was their "last song" and after that they came back on and played "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N" as an encore, and the only footage I have is a 16 second crappy phone clip of the whole audience singing along, calling out "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N!" like it was all they believed in.
You can see that one here.

I sort of wanted to wait outside afterwards but didn't, because I had an exam the next day. I honestly think it went okay butif I failed, there's an oppurtunity to retake it in two weeks and I won't regret spending that night away from it all even a tiny bit.