Mumford and Sons - Friday 7th December 2012 - LG Arena, Birmingham

Mumford and Sons are considered one of the bands that the increasingly popular genre that so frequently gets referred to now as “nu-folk” stemmed from. They are Ben Lovett, Marcus Mumford, “Country” Winston and Ted Dwane and long with the likes of Noah and the Whale, Laura Marling and Johnny Flynn,  the four of them met amongst a circle of musicians in a London folk club that became a community and wrote together, played in each other's bands et cetera. Their name is chosen for its similarity to that of an old English family business.

They didn't stay small. Now, they win Grammys and fill arenas and perform in the White House.

I was late to the party with Mumford and Sons, buying "Sigh No More" in late 2010 but I fell in love with their music so easily, and consider them one of my favourite bands. Their first album is rousing folk-rock, revolutionising the banjo and the mandolin, glittering with lyrics that frequently reference Shakespearian literature and the bible. "Babel", their second release from September this year, follows the winning formula.

The LG Arena that night was so profoundly their's, decorated with trademark strings of fairy lights hanging over the crowd and the Gentlemen of the Road logo across the curtain, the four red flags that symbolise their new album hanging gratuitously above the stage.

Support kicked off with the unenthusiastic, witty and completely hilarious Piff the Magic Dragon, who entertained the crowd with magic tricks. He was followed by Post War Years, a band that brought together rock and electronica in a set that had the crowd dancing. The third of their opening bands were Dawes, a band from Los Angeles that carry reminders of both Dire Straits and Ryan Adams in their music, but you can also hear Mumford and Sons in them. After this, Piff the Magic Dragon came on for a second set, bringing with him this time a chihuahua.

At nine pm, the lights went down, to huge amounts of applause, and those first piercing and sharp chords of "Babel" shone out through the arena. And the curtains came down.

The crowd were open-hearted and loud, singing along with every word of "Babel". Seeing Marcus, Winston, Ben and Ted for those first few minutes was completely surreal, it never feels quite real when I see a band play for the first time, especially when their voices and their sound has been along with me every day for years before. They brought so much life and energy to the stage from those first few moments.

"I Will Wait" is all jangling guitar rhythms and rousing choruses; it had the whole crowd dancing, and there is something special about crying out "Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold!" aloud, along with a giant arena full of other humans, doing and feeling the same. For "Winter Winds", a song from the first album, Marcus took on an electric mandolin, and every moment of it reminds me of Christmas. "Below My Feet" is thoughtful and soft, with more of a focus on keyboard than most other songs, during which they sing together in perfect harmony. Those moments in which all of the instruments stop, leaving the room alone with the four guys and their voices, were some of the most beautiful of the night.

This was followed with "White Blank Page", beautifully bursting with passion and anger. Tonight, they said, was the third time only they had played "Hopeless Wanderer" to an audience but like everything else it was flawless, rousing feet to dance and warming hearts' cockles with contagious melodies and beautiful words as hands slammed violently and impossibly quickly across strings.

"So when your hope's on fire
But you know your desire
Don't hold a glass over the flame, don't let your heart grow cold,
I will call you by name, I will share your road."

This intense spell of energy was followed by "Timshel" - the song entitled after an old-English word meaning "thou mayest", a moment of quiet and beauty. It's a song that always reminds me of Christmas. "As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand." 

"Little Lion Man" was That One everyone knew the words to, the whole crowd chanting the chorus from the bottoms of their lungs. "Thistle and Weeds", strong and stormy and loud, blew over into "Ghosts That We Knew", the most tender of melodies, a comfort blanket of a song, sounding so fragile though it never could break.

"Lover of the Light" was one of the most beautiful moments of the night for me, and there's a particular banjo line in this one - you'll probably know which I mean - that tangles right through my heartstrings every time. During this song Marcus went over to drums.

Support band Dawes came back on to join them for "Awake My Soul", as did Piff the Magic Dragon who helpfully fed Winston Doritos. That song sounds like the walk you take that makes you think differently, or just like breathing in fresh air. "Roll Away Your Stone" is playful and loud and full of life, has your feet stomping. "Whispers in the Dark" is romantic and swings between the loud and the quiet.

I was so pleased that they played "Dust Bowl Dance", a song different to all of their others, it is a ballad in the traditional sense that it tells a story. It is dark, growing in pace, lyrics that talk of betrayal and, most of all, of revenge, complete proof that folk music does indeed rock out a lot.

They left, and then, for encores, emerged on a smaller stage right in the middle of the crowd, just the four of them crowded around one acoustic guitar. They sang "Where Are You Now?" in gorgeous four part harmony, the tale of someone lost without a trace. This moment of peace and quiet continued with "Reminder", before the band headed back to the main stage and played "The Cave", a song that's become an absolute anthem. It was a moment of complete communion, and assured me however big this band gets, however big venues they are playing, it does not mean there will be distance. Where I was that night, squashed up in the front row, the room felt tiny and everyone close by.

They brought Dawes back on for the last song, a cover of the Beatles' "With A Little Help from My Friends" which was both brilliant and hilarious, Ted and Winston leaning towards the mic in unison to sing backing vocals and Marcus and Dawes' vocalist both singing lead.

Mumford and Sons had as much heart and enthusiasm in the huge LG Arena than they would have playing in a tiny venue where everyone was quiet or a pub where nobody would listen, I'm sure, because you can tell so easily that they just love doing this. They breathe life into their music, they stick with their roots and explore at the same time, and I don't think this is going to change, however "mainstream" or not they are considered. The idea of "Mumford and Sons" as an old English family business completely defines and influences their music, carrying all the values of something shared through love, pride and community. 

***
A Really Slushy Note:
This took two days to make myself write because I have these childish feelings of not wanting it to be over, wanting to cling on in every way possible and blogging about a concert is always sort of like the last step in the process for me. I've loved Mumford and Sons for two years and during this time I have had a lot of almosts in terms of getting to their shows and then being disappointed. When I was fourteen one of my friends went and my mum didn't let me, because it was on a week day, it was too far away for me to go on my own, various other things that didn't seem sensible at the time and to be honest still don't really. Then earlier this year they were in England when I was in Hamburg, which was really frustrating. So it didn't seem real when we finally got tickets in October. It was in a lot of ways nothing like I thought. I wasn't there with the person I thought I'd be going with, and they played songs I didn't think they would, and vice versa didn't play songs I would sure would be on the set list. It didn't matter, it was really perfect.
I want there to be a neat way to conclude this but there isn't. I suppose what I'm saying is, that band you are waiting to see that you listen to every day, it is so worth it to keep trying. Even if you live on a tiny goat farm somewhere and you need to travel, or it means you have to cut back on spending on other things for a while.
It is worth it. Honest.

I hope you're all well. I'll be back really soon.
Sincerely, with post-gig depression and a heavy heart,

Lizzie xxxxxxxxxx

"Halycon" - Ellie Goulding

"Halycon" is Ellie Goulding's second release, following her hit album "Lights", 2010. She's from Herefordshire in England, makes music that is sometimes electric, sometimes more orchestral, and nearly always stems from an acoustic guitar and her gorgeous soprano vocals. "Halycon" is darker and more adventurous than her first album, heavily inspired by a break-up.

"Don't Say A Word", the first track on the album, is the most unordered and beautiful arrangement of Goulding's vocals, which are so angelic and effervescent particularly in this one. Caresses for the ears. It follows by "My Blood", which is a little darker, drum-heavy and twinkles along the upper end of a piano during the chorus. 

"Anything Can Happen" was the first single from this album, one of those that you recognise as soon as you hear her sing that very first bar. Ellie Goulding sings of regret, and hope. This song just soars and swoops around your head, her beautiful voice around you from all four corners. It is absolute magic, a breath of life.

What I love about this album is how natural it sounds; "Only You" kicks off with raw vocals, and a rhythm sounding like clapping hands. "Baby, I'm on my knees" repeats like a chant, music brought right back to its roots. "Halycon" is, I guess, a little chattier than the others lyrically, and it is so beautiful, rising from acoustic guitar beginnings to something bigger and more electronic, a constant variation on volume and weight, until it fades away.

"Figure 8" is so very haunting, a story of love and a call of desperation. It draws in harps, synthesisers, massive pressing drum beats, and it's like nothing she has ever done before. The combination of these instruments and, of course, the gigantic vocals, remind me of Florence, and in a way Kate Bush. It drives off in places you wouldn't expect, a really beautiful song.

Next is "JOY"; a rest and a moment of peace, of quiet. Gorgeous strings lift and dive around her voice. "I'm seeing stars, watch me fall apart." It sounds like dreams, or like the winter, like the walk you take the morning after to think and take things in.

"Hanging On" is a little closer to electronica than most, the kind of song you could both dance to or lie in peace and quiet, a cover of Active Child's. Like most of this record, it lacks the structure we expect from a typical pop song, lifting between stretches of lyricless vocals, repeated single lines and non-choruses, and this is brilliant.

Another odd, courageous and choral opening starts off "Explosions", later bringing in strings and a piano. "It will never be the same." This later combines with drums, and Ellie Goulding's lovely voice sounds just as perfect like this, restrained and quiet at times.

"I Know You Care" is beautiful, so sad and gentle and nostalgic, a song about love broken and lost. "Atlantis" follows it, in which she sings the lyrics in that intentionally blurred way, similarly to Bon Iver, the way that doesn't let you concentrate on it too much. It is so gorgeous, some of the things she does with her voice in this song is just incredible. It is so large and bright, and almost sounds cinematic at times.

The last song on the album, "Dead in the Water" is barely instrumental for its first two minutes, leaving the listener along with Goulding's beautiful voice. It is sorrowful, brings the album to a close in peace and calm. Everything about this album is so ethereal and pretty, and I really believe that after the success of "Lights", she's finding her feet even more.

Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra - Wednesday 24th October 2012 - Manchester Cathedral

When I was eleven years old, I stumbled across the Dresden Dolls on the Internet. I was maybe too young at the time, but it did me no bad, and Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione's music opened my mind at a time it needed to be opened. A little later, I bought Amanda's solo album "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?", and this year her new release, "Theatre is Evil", with her new band the Grand Theft Orchestra. On Wednesday, I went to see her play at Manchester Cathedral for the very first time.

I arrived at the Cathedral that afternoon way too early, and walked around inside for a while to kill some time. When I got outside I knew I hadn't done something stupid by arriving at three o clock, because people were already there and they were unmistakeably Amanda Palmer fans. They were dressed up, in bright lipstick and dramatic eyeliner and a lot of black lace and tattoos, with more ukeleles than I think I've ever seen in one place.

I don't quite know how it happened but ten or twenty of us ended up assembled in the gardens outside the Urbis museum. People played ukeleles whilst everyone sang together, a girl dressed in steampunk attire recited poetry and every so often random passers-by would stop, kind of confused about whatever it was that went on.

When doors opened at seven o clock, the crowd assembled around the small stage, in the centre of the crucifix that beautiful Manchester Cathedral is shaped as. And then, unexpectedly, a brass band started to play, and the whole audience swivelled to face the back of the building where they appeared from. They were the Horndog Brass Brand, from Edinburgh, and it was a such a perfect opening to the loud and theatrical nature of Amanda Palmer's show.

After the cathedral's reverend (!) came on to ask for donations and tell everyone to have a good time, Amanda introduced Jherek Bischoff, of the Grand Theft Orchestra, the second support act. Jherek was a bass player accompanied with strings, conducting them not with his hands but his entire body as he moved about the stage, lurching from side to side. He went from bass to ukelele, very song he played was radically different from the one before.

Amanda came on to introduce the next of her opening bands, and in attempt to "loosen up" the quiet and respectful audience, instructed everyone to close their eyes, turn their head towards the ceiling, throw their arms open and on 1, 2, 3,  scream.
We all did. All at once. And being surrounded by chaos I think it was one of the most relaxing moments I've experienced.
The band she was introducing were The Simple Pleasure, an electro-punk band, their set made up of sparkly costumes and thrown around flamingo sculptures, a lot of dancing and audience interaction.

And then Amanda Fucking Palmer came on.

She appeared above the stage, singing down from a balcony, the whole place dark except for a spotlight on her. It was very Phantom of the Opera, as she sang completely acapella, surveying the cathedral, an old English folk song.

Amanda descended to the stage as "A Grand Theft Intermission" was played, big and striking and drastic, and she and her drummer threw out bunches of flowers to the audience. She made every song an anthem, the whole audience dancing and singing along with the words as if it were all that they believed, teenage kids and men, and women in lipstick and coloured wigs.

Her band, the Grand Theft Orchestra, were individually so talented and perfectly woven together as a whole, and you could just tell each of them shared everything about Amanda's ethos and attitude to music. Amanda herself was so passionate, slaying piano and at one point caressing the hair of the guy in front of me during "The Killing Type" when she stood up to sing, leaning right into the crowd and holding eye contact.





















"Smile" was amazing, every member of the audience singing along, on the tips of their toes, and "The Bed Song"  beautiful and heartbreaking, but the show was as playful as it was serious and intense. During "Missed Me", Amanda and her band would freeze like dolls, then spring to action and run across the stage to trade instruments between each verse, going from piano to bass to drums and back.

Amanda Palmer is one of the most hardworking and honest musicians I can think of, and as she went past the venue's curfew it wasn't possible for her to play an encore. She shrugged this off, of course, as no problem and told the crowd she would find somewhere "Probably legal" outdoors to finish the show. This ended up being the gatepost of the cathedral gardens, where most of the crowd gathered around outside to listen to her play "Oasis", an ironically cheerful song about abortion, "Creep", a cover of Radiohead's classic and "Ukelele Anthem" on her ukelele, singing along with every word.
"Stop pretending art is hard."

Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra are back in the UK in March next year, and touring the world between then and now. If you go to her website you can look at tour dates, or buy her new album, which is also avaliable for free download if you're broke.

And I can't really think of a better way to conclude this, than saying how I have never witnessed more of a sense of mutual love between absolute strangers, than over something such as an Amanda Palmer show. Because more than the perfection or the chaos, all that art boils down to is the ways that it brings people together.

Bo Bruce - Upstairs at The Garage, Islington - Thursday 16th August 2012
Small Warm Up Gig for V-Festival

The first thing you need to know about Bo is that if you're from the UK, you're likely to know her as the girl who came as runner-up on a TV talent show called The Voice, but she's not at all the commercialised sell-out we've come to expect from these things. Bo has been, and will be, writing beautiful songs for years. Her 2010 EP "Search The Night" recently reached #2 on iTunes, showing that she's already developed a fanbase that love her for the art she makes, not just because of hearing her sing some albeit brilliant cover songs on TV.

The Garage is a really small venue in Islington, its upstairs room last night was filled with candles. I arrived stupidly early, having dragged my French exchange sister on a train journey from Cheshire to London and found a place at the very front, about two metres from where the mic stand was poised, deciding to sit on the floor cross-legged and see if the people in the front row did it and everyone else would follow, something I've always wanted to try, and in a sense it almost worked.

Until the support act, Ben Montague, took to the stage, in which the small crowd of around 100 filling up the room. He makes what I would say is folk-pop music, and sang love songs alone with another acoustic guitar player, instead of the full band he normally plays with, but his more stripped back versions of songs had no trouble filling the room. At one point he actually asked the sound guy to turn down the volume, which someone commented was probably the first time a musician's done that on stage. He played brilliantly, the only fuck-up being when he thanked "Jo... wait, Bo!" for having him, and managed to have the crowd singing along during one song.. He's @ben_montague on Twitter, recently got playlisted by Radio 2 and you should definitely check him out.

A while past nine, it was announced that Bo was about to take to the stage and her band entered first: from what I recall a drummer, a guitarist and two keyboard players.* They played the instantly recognisable introduction to David Guetta's "Without You", which was Bo's audition song on The Voice, and she came on and started to sing.

Bo's voice, on stage, is one of the most beautiful and perfect I've ever heard. The only difference between her studio recordings and live performance is the lack of reverb. For those unfamiliar, Bo Bruce has the kind of breathy, "wispy" (a word my friend used to describe her, I quite like it) style of singing that's compared most often to Sinead O'Connor and Dolores O'Riordan from The Cranberries, using glottal strokes and mini-yodels, sliding into tiny gasps of falsetto at the end of a note.

Bo's second song was an original, the thoughtful and haunting "Behind the Gates", followed by "Fighting Arizona" which is also from Bo's EP "Search The Night", an offer of comfort and support to a friend stuck in the cycle of crime and drug addiction.

Then, she sang a gorgeous rendition of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill", this quiet and respectful three minutes of mutual audience understanding where there was no cheering, no singing along, but a kind of silence and communion.

"Black Ice" is beautiful, and admittedly I spent the entire time trying to watch what the keyboard player was doing as I've been sitting at the piano late at night attempting to scribble out sheet music for a whole week now. It's a song about a broken relationship, where Bo's gorgeous vocals soar in her upper range.

Bo announced her "last song" would be "Charlie Brown", and I almost feel ashamed about the fact that it was one of my favourite songs of the night (actually, it was fantastic) because it was a cover. But the Coldplay song suits her so perfectly and it was the point in the night where confidence that had been wavering at the start had truly soared. The room was full of dancing and smiling, I felt this growing lump in my throat because I can't help but say that when she sings "Charlie Brown" it sounds like rainbows. I'm sleep deprived, inarticulate and slightly crazy right now but it does, it sounds like rainbows.

After calls for an encore, she played an absolutely gorgeous new song called "The Fall", with just a piano, which I expect will be on her new album in October. In the area I was stood there were several people in tears.

After the show, Bo was nice enough to take the time to spend a few minutes with each and every person who waited behind and I think of all the musicians I've seen she might be the one that shows the most care and trust in her fans. She hugged and kissed everyone and was lovely to talk to and very grateful (I brought her some cookies).

Everything about her is original and a work of art - the way she sings, writes, looks and moves about the stage, and I really think there's going to be such a wide market for this girl.

One of the only criticisms I have about last night is how few original songs she played in comparison with covers (although I know doing this is what helped her success) and I have a theory she doesn't quite realise how many people have heard of and love the things she writes, too. Having said that, all three of the cover songs she sang last night were completely perfect.

Bo's career is really just beginning to blossom - she has an album release planned for the autumn, and a UK tour in the winter planned. Intimate, tiny gigs are my favourite and I really recommend you go see her whilst shows are still this small.

***

*Please correct me if I got this wrong and you were there!

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.

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.