Twenty past five. 17.20. The National came on stage. Nondescript bunch of blokes-dark plain shirts and jeans, more than a few beards and most of them with thinning hair. There were loads of them as well. Two, three guitarists? Brass section, trumpets and trombone. I was sure I saw a violin as well. Drummer and lead singer. It was like having a full orchestra on stage.
Then the first song kicked in. If there is such a word it was epiphanetic. The drums popped hard Joy Division-like. The lead singers deep deep bass voice was Curtis-ish but without the annoying mannerisms. I couldn’t tell what he was singing but it was heartfelt and honest and serious. The guitars swooped and soared like the few wispy white clouds in the sky. As the song rose to the end the brass section grew louder and louder and more strident as the rest of the music faded away, leaving just one trumpet note hanging in the air. There was a microsecond of perfect silence then the crowd exploded. This was the sort of thing we wanted to hear! This was what it all should be about! The singer, squinting behind tortoiseshell Raybans, “Look at that sunset. Make a wish.” This was our wish. This was my wish. It was like seeing the Fall again for the first time or like Amy being at Anfield for her first night time game and turning around on the Kop to see the pitch lit up perfect emerald green. You just know when something feels just right.
(video clip to follow. soon.)
with the weather today that june day seems a long time ago
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