A.M at P.M

The 24th of May was the concert for the Arctic Monkeys that I was going to in Finsbury Park, not because I’m a band member, a roadie or a ‘groupie’ but because, like any other average person in the world, I bought the tickets. They were a Christmas present to Ed. Luckily I had managed to procure an umbrella and waterproof shoes for if it did rain when I got to London it was raining so hard not even my brollie could save me. Luckily it dried up by the time the concert came around (even if the mud in the park could rival Glastonbury, when we were getting the tube back there was a man with mud up to the hem of his shorts!). We had tried to find rain-coats before hand but the only ones I could find were from Topshop and I wasn’t prepared to spend £40 in plastic. 

Ed and I got to the venue just as the first opening act ended, and that was the opening act we really wanted to see…but the four minutes that we did see them were pretty awesome. The second act was Miles Kane and we figured that if we took the face of the bassist and the haircut of the drummer he would look much like my step-dad. Perhaps he doesn’t actually go on business trips, but is actually a rock star. Some of the (bizarre/retro/iffy) clothes looked like something he would have somewhere in his wardrobe! The other was Tame Impala, but I didn’t really pay attention to them much as I was freezing cold and my feet were killing me. I jut wanted the main act to perform.

In between acts there was an agonising half an hour wait for the next band in which, having no dancing to distract myself from the pain coming from my feet and legs I watched the people. Never in my life have I seen so many people wearing the same combinations of denim and leather, and never have I seen so many people with a Noel Gallagher-esque hair cut. I couldn’t help but wonder how many people wore those outfits as their daily wardrobe or if they were just trying to fit in, but it was entertaining.  When the bands came on there was more dancing (read: jumping and swaying) which made my feet agonise in the long run, but at least all my weight wasn’t on them constantly. 

Arctic Monkeys came on at nine in the evening and their first song was Do I Wanna Know from their newest album which made everyone super excited, but they only played perhaps three songs from their AM album, which the tour was meant to promote, so it felt a little bit lacklustre. I believe it rained again, but I couldn’t tell because apparently a thing you do at Arctic Monkeys concerts is throw beer into the sky and down peoples shirts so it could have just been Fosters raining down on us. The problem with the beer being so readily available was that people were incredibly drunk before we had even reached halfway through the evening. I had to watch as a man vomitted into a cup and put it on the ground, and had to put up with a man who told everyone he “was Boy George”. Arctic Monkeys are a good band but they were only on for an hour which sort of disappointed me because they have tonnes of songs and only performed around ten of them, however they did play our favourites and so we were happy with what we got. 

Ed and I also had to leave at 10pm so that was one reason why I should be glad they finished half an hour earlier than we were told, at least we didn’t miss anything from them, but the problem was now that every other person was also leaving and Ed and I needed to be back at King’s Cross to collect his suitcase and get on a train home, so we had to dash from the stage to the tube station to make it ahead of the crowd and we just managed to get on the train before the mass of people caught up with us. Perhaps if the gig had less supporting acts then we could have seen more of the main act, and I would probably feel a lot less disheartened, but it was fine, I discovered some new music. We got home covered in alcohol and cigarette smoke which wasn’t very pleasant and since Ed went through the full experience of having a glass full of it poured down him we were happy to be home. The way I’m writing this I’m making it out to be less pleasant than it actually was but, believe me, I did have a good time. I’m just glad that I wasn’t covered in mud or booze myself. 


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