Bright sunshine, clear blue skies, fresh and cool, but not too cold.
I found myself thinking that they must’ve flown me into the wrong city. This couldn’t possibly be Manchester.
I wandered out of the baggage claim area and started making my way to the train station, located there in Manchester International Airport. As I did, I was trying to wrap my head around the gorgeousness of the day. Never, in all my trips to the UK over the years, had I ever seen such marvelous weather as I was seeing that Tuesday morning. It was actually better than the weather I’d left behind at home in Florida.
As it happens, this was to be only the first of many surprises I’d experience on my journey.
You patched me up and sent me on my way
I was in the UK to see my favorite band, Elbow. Never a household name in the US, they’d only played in mid-sized venues when they toured the States. I’ve always thought of them as much, much bigger than the places I’d seen them play, and I’d always wished I could see them in a setting that held the thousands of adoring fans they deserved. This trip, an incredible Christmas gift from my husband, would make that dream a reality, as I was set to attend their hometown gig at the MEN Arena in Manchester.
It’s been a weird experience, being such a big fan of theirs in America. I know I’m not the only one, but it sure feels like it. In Florida, it’s all about dance music, rap, redneck rock or country. Mention Elbow’s name, even among people who are a bit more “in the know” about current music, and you’d inevitably get a blank stare. It‘s really frustrating, because I genuinely think they’re some of the most talented musicians I’ve ever heard. I listen to lots of music, and have a lot of artists I love, but Elbow have a particular place in my heart which nobody else can touch.
I was thinking about why this is as I collected the tickets for my train journey from Manchester to Wales, a trip that was added on to my original plans after a fellow Elbow fan invited me to join her for the band’s Cardiff gig. I’d decided to take her up on her invitation, though it would require me to fly over a couple of days earlier and take two trains for three hours to get to her, just after having spent the better part of 24 hours at airports and in planes. I was already fairly wiped out, and I wasn’t sure how I’d feel upon arrival in Newport, but I kept thinking about how I’d be able to see Elbow twice in three days, and that was the motivation I needed to suck it up and keep moving. Especially since the chance to see Elbow live in my part of the US is not terribly common, and I’d been a fan for seven long years – SEVEN YEARS! – before I’d seen them in concert for the first time. This was absolutely a golden opportunity for a big-time fangirl like me, and I wasn’t about to let any trivial little issues like jet lag and total physical exhaustion get in my way.
Still, as I sank into my seat on the first train of the day, I did question myself a bit. I’m 43 years old, and I’m leaving my husband and daughter behind, traveling thousands of miles from home and lugging suitcases on and off of planes and trains, in places I’ve never been, all alone…so I can go to a couple of concerts? Really? I mean, what is wrong with me, anyway? How can a couple of gigs be worth all that?
As soon as I arrived in Wales, I was met by my friend, who grabbed my big suitcase, whisked me into her car and got me to her house in what seemed like a minute flat. I was introduced to her son and daughter, who were both very friendly and welcoming. And I was made at home right away, which was such sweet relief after the traveling I’d done. One of our first orders of business was to talk about Elbow, of course, and that was when some of the questions I’d been asking myself on the train began to answer themselves. As we talked, I was reminded that it wasn’t just the two concerts I was here for. I was also doing all this crazy traveling to meet my fellow diehard Elbow fans, since they were harder to find on my side of the pond.
My friend is as barking mad about Elbow as I am. She’d found them somewhat later than I had, but you’d never know it from her knowledge of and love for their music. As she told me about how excited she was for the next night’s show in Cardiff, I began to feel this sudden, overpowering sense of empathy. This was the very first human being I’d come face to face with in my ten years – TEN YEARS! – of being an Elbow fan who was 100% on the same page as I was. She understood why their songs were so exceptional, and why they made people feel the way they do when they hear them. She actually got it!
When I started talking about Elbow’s music with my friend, it was as if the clouds of self-doubt in my musical skies suddenly parted. I wasn’t nuts, after all! She really, truly had that same love for that same band, and when I went all gaga about certain songs, it made perfect sense to her. And, to top it all off, her kids were in the process of discovering and falling in love with Elbow as well, and would be joining us for the show. It just made me so ridiculously and stupidly happy.
The show was a wonderful event. We were first in line to get in to the arena, and as soon as the doors opened, we claimed excellent spots right up front. Once the show began, I found myself savoring certain songs and certain moments for what seemed an eternity; there were points where time just seemed to stop, somehow. Oddly enough, though, it was all over so quickly. By the end of the night, we’d nabbed a couple of set lists, a couple of ginormous posters that had been hanging in the arena windows, a handshake from Guy Garvey and a few great pictures to remind us of the whole thing.
It was remarkable how much better this concert had been for me than the other two I’d been to in the States. Not that Elbow hadn’t performed as well on the previous tour, by any means. And I’d even managed to get set lists and Garvey handshakes before, as well. But to be in an arena full of fans who were enthusiastic and having fun, the same way I was, really made a world of difference. I was just delighted, but as great as it was, that night was just a warm-up for what was still to come.
The following afternoon, after two days in Wales, one amazing gig, field trips to see both ancient Roman ruins and the local Sainsbury’s (“Oh my God…cheese and onion crisps. Oh my God…ready-made Indian meals! OH MY GOD…RIBENA!”), some delicious cheeses, wine and home-cooked meals, and much kindness and care, I was revitalized and glowing as I set out on the train back into Manchester.
I need to be in the town where they know what I’m like and don’t mind
My first afternoon walking around the city of Manchester was quite something. Almost immediately, I spotted a wall papered with posters and handbills for albums and concerts, and there was the poster advertising the new Elbow album, build a rocket boys!
By this point, my anticipation for the show at the MEN was reaching critical mass. I had been so blown away by the experience of seeing Elbow play in Cardiff, but I knew that attending the show in Manchester, with even more of the folks I knew from the fan forum, would likely be enough to make my head explode.
On the day of the gig, I was picked up several hours before showtime by two more of my online Elbow pals, a husband and wife from Oop North who I’d been in touch with for a while. Meeting them in “real life” was a joy, and they were every bit as cool and fun to be around as I’d expected them to be – more so, if anything. They handed me an envelope containing a printout they’d made for me of an Elbow walking tour, since they knew I’d have some time to myself to explore Manchester before I went home. Just looking at the names and pictures of some of the Elbow landmarks I knew about – Bridgewater Hall, where they’d performed an amazing show with Manchester’s Hallé Orchestra and Youth Choir; the Koffee Pot diner, where the Elboys had occasionally been caught having a munch – made me smile, and marvel once again at how cool it was to be in the band’s hometown. And, as I had done while staying at the home of my friend in Wales, I also marveled at the thoughtful ways of these two people who’d never met me before, yet were going out of their way to show me a really wonderful time.
We got to the arena to queue up for the show, and were met there by my friend from Wales and a few other forum members, one of whom had kindly brought along an incredible gift for me, and all of whom were fantastically friendly and enthusiastic. In fact, their enthusiasm was like nothing I’d ever seen in my many years of gig-going. Discussions began as the group mapped out their plans for what they’d do when the doors opened; there was debate over the merits of standing down at the end of the catwalk versus being “Potterside”, and thoughts were exchanged on precisely where one ought to stand along the barrier for maximum coverage – the corner, somewhere along the side edge, or more toward the front of the stage? These people had actual strategies going on, and they were not fucking about. I knew I was now in the big leagues of hardcore Elbow fandom, no mistake about it.
The doors opened after a wait that seemed like it would go on forever, and we made our way in to stake out our turf. After finding a spot to stand in, I looked around and let the enormity of the place sink in.
It hit me that there would soon be thousands of people around me, all there for the same band I was there for. After seeing Elbow in venues that were a fraction of the size of the MEN (the biggest place where I’d seen them in the States had a capacity of about 1,200), this was just surreal in every way.
Eventually the arena filled up, and I looked around again. My brain was reeling from the view – a sea of people there to see my favorite band, just the way I’d always thought it should be.
By the time the band hit the stage, I was on excitement overload, simply because I was buzzing off the vibe of the crowd. And as soon as the music kicked in, I was completely over the moon.
Opening number The Birds, from the new album, was a mighty beast, simply stunning to hear in that environment. A mix of songs from the two most recent LPs continued the string of direct hits, and provided both driving, upbeat energy (The Bones of You, Neat Little Rows, With Love) and gorgeous, gentle reflection (Lippy Kids, Mirrorball).
Then came the emotional one-two punch that would knock me out flat. First was a new song, The Night Will Always Win. I had already fallen in love with this one after hearing it on the album. Hearing it live, as the band gathered center stage to play together on a bank of keyboards while Guy Garvey sang the plaintive lyrics so beautifully, was nothing short of magical. It is a song about missing someone, and doing so at the worst possible time (in the darkness of the night) and in the worst possible way (alone). Upon hearing the recorded version of this song for the first time, I had immediately been reminded of the many people in my life who I’ve lost. And while the song was being played there on the stage before me, those thousands of other fans all disappeared, and I was there with the band, and my long-gone friends and loved ones, whose presence was as real and comforting as a warm embrace. It was as close as I’ve ever come to feeling the way you’re supposed to feel in church, if that makes any sense at all coming from a hell-bound lapsed Catholic like me.
Following this was my favorite Elbow song of all time, Great Expectations. Truth be told, this is one of my favorite songs by any artist ever, and I think it pretty much represents the peak of Elbow’s songwriting efforts up to now. It has a gorgeous melody, a perfectly balanced musical arrangement, and a marvelous, moving narrative, with some of the most evocative imagery I’ve found yet in recent popular music. It’s like poetry and cinema and pure, raw emotion all rolled up in one transcendent package, and it has never failed to make me glow from the inside out when I’ve heard it live. And I had been fortunate enough to hear it live before, both in the States and in Cardiff.
But on this night, in this atmosphere, with the energy and enthusiasm of the crowd around me, I felt the impact of this song on a gut level that I had never experienced before. It was simply overwhelming to realize where I was, who I was with, and how I’d gotten there, and before I knew it, tears began rolling down my face. It was like nothing I’d ever felt at a concert in my life, and it was only enhanced by the fact that the two ladies standing on either side of me knew just what I was feeling. They both reached for my hands and put their arms around my shoulders, and it was confirmation for me that, even in this huge and unfamiliar arena, I was really sort of home. Seeing Elbow play was no longer a solitary experience, or one which made me feel a bit like an alien, on a completely different musical planet from my friends in Florida. Here, I was among family in a way, though these were people I’d only just met. Here, they knew what I’m like, and they didn’t mind at all.
It would’ve been impossible to reach another emotional high like the one I’d had during those two songs, but that doesn’t mean the show was all downhill from there. On the contrary, the way I’d felt had really kicked my happy glands into high gear, and the rest of the set was one big wave of joy. By the time we finished off the night with an arena-wide sing-along of One Day Like This, I was just a heaping helping of bliss on legs. My face ached from smiling as the lights came up, and I truly felt that watching this show was the most fun I’d ever had in my life.
And then…somehow…it got even more fun than that.
And we’ve love enough to light the street/’Cause everybody’s here
For most people, and certainly for me on every other concert-going occasion I’ve had in my life, the end of the gig is the end of the musical experience for the night. You might go out for a nightcap or three with friends, but the band you’d enjoyed is off to the after-party, where only a select group of lucky admirers will see them again. This is a world I’d never had access to, nor had I ever expected to.
However, through the confluence of several ridiculously fortunate circumstances, I found myself in possession of a wristband which was the musical equivalent of a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory. It enabled me to head to a fabulously unassuming little pub/club called Big Hands, where an after-party would be happening, and where the members of Elbow might, very possibly, appear at some point in the night.
Along with several of my forumster friends, I arrived at Big Hands sometime in the neighborhood of midnight. Unlike the old fairy tale, however, the stroke of 12 was the beginning of my Cinderella night, instead of the end of it.
The first round of drinks was procured, though I had no real interest in boozing it up that night. I was just soaking it all in – the eclectic mix of music blaring from the speakers, the amusing little clusters of hipsters dotting the floor of the club, and the fantastically buoyant vibe of the folks seated at the table with me. An attempt was made to snap some photos, but between the low light and my level of near-total emotional freakitude, I didn’t manage to capture very much.
We all talked and laughed, sharing our thoughts on the gig and on the band. As some time passed, and we found ourselves deeper into the morning hours, we wondered if we would be luckless with our hopes of seeing the Elboys. As this was their hometown, all had friends and family to see, and the following day was a day off for them, it was entirely possible that they’d decide to skip over this particular gathering and do their own thing. To be honest, it didn’t bother me much – though I was intrigued by the possibility of having a Close Encounter of the Elbow Kind, I had come for the music and for the chance to meet my online friends, and I’d enjoyed all of that in spectacular fashion already. I could have genuinely walked away from Big Hands without anything more and been totally satisfied.
Suddenly, a small but palpable ripple of excitement went through the room, and some of the forumsters went on a recon mission to see what had caused the buzz. Upon their return to the table, we were informed that there were, in fact, Elboys in the house. Within a short stretch of time, Guy Garvey, Richard Jupp and Craig Potter were all present and accounted for.
At this point, another round of strategical discussion commenced; what, if anything, should we do now? My friends, bless them, were quite determined that I should see the band somehow, and a scheme was hatched. Guy Garvey was outside having a smoke, and so it only made sense for us to go outside and have a smoke, too. Problem being, we don’t actually smoke. Not a problem for the forumsters, however, as tobacco and rolling papers quickly materialized, and roll-ups were constructed with varying degrees of proficiency.
Shabby cigs in hand, out we trooped to the front of the club. Shivering in the night air, we all stood about, acting cool (sort of) and looking over at The Garve while not actually looking over at him. He was mobbed by packs of people, which was no big surprise, and my heart just went out to the man. I thought how it must suck to be him every so often, and particularly at moments like that, when he may just want to wind down and he finds himself being swarmed. I mean, I wasn’t in his head and he may have been thoroughly enjoying himself, but I think it’d be incredibly tough to feel like you’re the center of everyone’s attention all the fucking time. And he’s blessed/cursed with having an incredibly charismatic personality, and a reputation as a really large-hearted chap, so I know why people are drawn to him, and why they expect to get something in return for their efforts – a picture, an autograph, a little conversation. At moments like those, I really don’t see “GUY GARVEY, SUPERSTAR MUSICIAN” in front of me. Once he’s off stage, he’s a dude like any other dude, and I just didn’t feel good about hassling a dude who’s just finished what is, for him, a long and exhausting stint at work.
So we didn’t go and speak to him after all, but soon we had new matters to focus on as our ranks were infiltrated by a fellow named Paul. Paul was some random putz who was also smoking and gave one of the ladies a light when her cig went out (remember, non-smokers! No lighters or matches on hand! Whoopsy!). He then proceeded to favor us with his drunken attentions for ten minutes or so, which amused me no end. First, he leered at my friend’s chest for a bit, and asked if we were all married and if our men were there in the club. Shortly thereafter, he listed some of the celebrities he found particularly lust-worthy – and they were all male celebrities, I might add. So poor old Paul was so off his tits that he didn’t even know which direction he and his trousers were going, and he seemed intent on being particularly lewd, crude and obnoxious to get a rise out of us. Unfortunately for him, I’m from America, I probably have a fouler mouth than he could ever dream of having, and I’m virtually unshockable. But he was funny as hell, it must be said, though that may not have been his precise intention.
Despite his unique comedic stylings, Paul began to annoy the crap out of one of the ladies, and I could sense the possibility of physical violence being unleashed in his general direction, so a move had to be made indoors. With no real plan to impose ourselves on Mr. Garvey, we snaked back through the crowd toward the front door of the club. And as we walked inside, what to our wondering eyes should appear, but Craig Potter himself, positioned at the end of the bar.
Now, let’s get this all out on the table right here and now: I am all about The Craig. I’ve always loved the way he played the keys, from the very first album on. There are so many Elbow songs (some of my all-time favorites, in fact, including Scattered Black and Whites, Newborn, and of course Great Expectations) which owe a lot of their appeal to his playing. I simply couldn’t imagine the way they’d sound without him. He shows a real instinct for how and when to play, and when to hold back, and what he does always adds the right sound and feel to the songs without taking away from anything else the rest of the band are doing. He’s just got an incredibly distinctive and expressive way of playing, and for me personally, his contributions often take the music to another level. My admiration for his talents only increased after he took on the production and mixing duties on The Seldom Seen Kid. The sound on that album blew me away, and I thought he’d done a really masterful job with it. I know Guy’s the focal point of the band for most people, and I do get that. He’s the writer of the lyrics, he’s the voice, and he’s got personality enough for the whole band all by himself. But, still…for me, there’s just something about Craig and what he adds to the mix. I love each and every one of the Elboys as musicians, but seriously, y’all. You just gotta give it up for The Craig!
So, here I was, mere inches away from Craig Friggin' Potter (as I respectfully and reverently refer to him), and I was not really sure how to handle this situation. Just as I’d felt about Guy Garvey, I was happy enough to have heard him play that night, and he didn’t owe me anything more than the performance I’d already been to see. At this point, he was just a regular dude who was sorely in need of some drinking time for himself. Luckily for me, one of my friends dove right in and said hello to him. She then introduced me, and he gave me the warmest hug and a kiss on the cheek. Craig Friggin' Potter! His gracious behavior put me at ease straight away, despite my initial feelings of awkwardness. He was good enough to ask how I’d been enjoying my trip, as he knew I was over from Florida, and to ask what I’d thought of the shows I’d seen in Cardiff and at the MEN.
And, as it turned out, he recalled a sign I’d held up for him at a gig in Atlanta a couple of years previously. I am not normally the kind of person who will draw attention to myself at a gig – no signs, no shouting at the band, no self-indulgent shenanigans of any kind – because it’s not about me when I see a band, it’s about the music. I can't imagine that I'd enjoy myself any better if I wrangled a fleeting moment of attention from either the artist or the others in the crowd. But on that one occasion, I had held up a sign for Craig, because it was a rare treat to see him live and he’s so fucking awesome, and the fact that he remembered that at all just floored me.
Although I wasn't used to the whole "pestering famous people" thing, I had to admit I was really thrilled to have had a moment to say hi to this particular dude. I will be listening to Elbow songs for as long as my ears work, and his playing will always be one of those things I notice and appreciate most whenever I do, so having the opportunity to pay my respects in person like that was pretty cool. A picture was duly snapped by my friend to commemorate the moment, and then we headed back to our table to let Craig get on with his night.
(A small postscript to this episode: Since I’ve been home, I’ve been showing the picture to anyone who’s been foolish enough to ask how my trip was. And so far, every female I’ve shown it to – no lie, every single one – has said something to the effect of, “Oh, I can see why he’s your favorite. He’s so cute!” And I always explain that liking “cute” guys is for Justin Bieber fans, and I’m not that shallow, thankyewverymuch, and he's my favorite because he’s a freakin’ awesome musician, actually. But then I looked at the picture a few more times, and it hit me…damn! He really is cute, isn’t he? He looked a helluva lot better at that point in the evening than I did, that’s for sure; I’m not used to being out all night, and the bags under my eyes were big enough to pack my clothes in for the trip back home.)
After this certifiable Moment of Awesome, I was beyond happy. I really was on Cloud 9 from the events of the night, and I was totally content and grateful for all I’d been lucky enough to experience. We were there a bit longer, during which time some of the members of our little tribe managed to socialize with the group that had opened for Elbow that night, Villagers (they turned out to be quite a good band), and enjoy a few more drinks and a few more Elbow-interaction moments. But eventually, even we hardcore fans had to wind it down. So, at an absolutely ridiculous time in the wee hours of morning, we slid into a cab and headed back to our hotels.
It was, without a doubt, the best time I’ve had in a long, looooong time. First, because of the show; there is nothing that makes me feel the way great music makes me feel, and this particular concert had been massive in every way. Secondly, the company was excellent, and meeting all the people I’d known online was a trip and a treat. And finally, if you’re a fan like me, how can you not rate an Elbow after-party (complete with a chat and photo op with The Craig) as one of the top experiences of all time? As exhausted as I was when I fell onto my bed, I was still awake for a little while longer, just recalling and processing the whole thing. And when I finally did fall asleep, it was with a song in my head and a smile on my face.
I’m in a bad way/Call my friends, they’ll know what to do
By the time I woke up on Saturday, nearly half the day was already gone. Even though I hadn’t had much to drink at the after-party, I felt a bit rough, as the hyper-excitement of the previous night and the lack of sleep afterward combined to create a weird, unpleasant, hangoverish type of sensation. I’d just about managed to ooze out of bed when the phone rang, and my friend and her husband invited me to join them for lunch (or breakfast, or whatever the hell it was) before they had to catch their train back home. Thanks to a quick, hot shower and a glassful of Vitamin B-complex, I was able to get myself feeling relatively human by the time they arrived at the hotel to meet me.
En route to a local restaurant, the plan mutated somewhat from just having a regular lunch (or breakfast, or whatever the hell it was) to making it a combination meal/Elbow sightseeing opportunity. We ended up at the Koffee Pot, and slid into a booth where one (or more) of the Elboys may very well have parked his arse at some point before us.
The Elbow connection was actually a bit beside the point, however, as this was really a chance to spend a little more time with these two wonderful people before we had to part ways. My friend handed me a large envelope labeled “puncture repair kit”, complete with an illustration of a deflating tire (she is dead clever, by the way!). Inside were a couple of DVDs for me to take home, so I could savor some more musical goodness after I arrived back in the real world. The food hit the spot for all of us, and we chatted and had a thoroughly agreeable time as we munched on our meals.
After we finished, we headed out into Manchester and we walked a bit, with both of them pointing out things I might be interested in, and giving me some idea of how to navigate through the area and get back to my hotel again without getting lost. Our time ran out all too quickly, and we hugged each other and said our goodbyes before they headed off to the train station. It was a bit sad to know that this would be the last time I’d see them on this trip, after having had only a small amount of time in their company. But it had been fantastic to even meet them at all, and in the short time I was there, they’d done so much to look after me. They, and my friend from Wales, and all the other forum folks I’d met, had been so warm, kind and fun to be around. I felt as if I could never adequately repay them for everything. It hit me what a special bunch they were, and what a remarkable trip this had been.
Though it wouldn’t have been nearly as incredible if I hadn’t met up with all those fabulous people, the trip still would have been worth it for the concerts alone. My affection and admiration for Elbow’s music was even stronger by the end of the week, which I hadn’t realized was possible. Seeing them play in larger settings had confirmed for me how powerful their songs are, as I had been just as drawn into the emotion of the music in those big arenas as I ever was in a smaller venue. A good number of the tunes being played on this tour are from the new album, but they were of excellent quality and I enjoyed them as if they were old favorites that I’d known for years. And seeing them at this particular point in their career – seasoned, successful, confident and on top of their game – drove home how insanely talented they all are.
They have an incredible range as a band, tackling everything from stripped-down ballads to full-on rock with equal ability. While that’s always been true of them, it really is more apparent now than it ever has been before in the time that I’ve followed them. With five albums now under their belt, and dozens of diverse songs to their credit, it’s easy to see how they’ve grown and progressed over the years. Watching them successfully navigate through a set filled with differing musical styles and approaches, and seeing the effect they had on the crowd, was all the proof I needed that my enthusiasm for this band was justified, even though so many people back home just didn’t get it. Despite my earlier self-questioning, dealing with all the planes, trains and taxis had absolutely been worth it to see them in the way I had that week.
I have a couple of other international trips planned before the end of this year, and I’m looking forward to both of them, but I honestly don’t suppose I’ll enjoy those in quite the same way that I enjoyed my amazing Week of Elbow. Making such brief but powerful connections – with the music, with the city where that music was created, and with the fans who love the music as much as I do – was so satisfying for me. It gave me a unique experience on many levels, and it even gave me a giant shot of unbridled optimism, which I wasn’t expecting at all.
I’m used to a lot of rude, self-absorbed, cynical behavior where I live. To have been in a situation where people I had never met before were opening their homes to me, being so generous with their time, bringing me gifts and going out of their way to ensure that I’d enjoy myself, kind of restored my faith in humanity a bit. I dunno, maybe that’s just the way things generally are in places outside the US, but maybe it’s because Elbow fans are a very special breed. I’m rather inclined to believe that after everything I’ve been through, and I’m lucky and proud to be one of them. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll still look back on this as one of the best experiences I’ve ever had, and it’ll always put the same song in my head and the same smile on my face that I had after that amazing night in Manchester.
When your dentures prevent your smile
These adventures will fill your eyes
with love
1 comments:
I'm glad you had a great trip. :)
And is it just my eyes, or does Craig Potter look a bit like Paul McCartney, circa Let It Be or, even moreso, early 1970?
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