Last of the summer wine (/prosecco/ale/gin)

What up people. It’s about time I provided you with details of my whereabouts because otherwise HOW WILL YOU KNOW how I’ve been spending my time? We can’t have life events going undocumented because I’ve got less than a year til I’m 30 and from then on I anticipate my memory declining and basically for me to be living at all times in close proximity to a packet of biscuits and my cat.

So let’s roll. In August, still on a Fringe high, I made my way to Copenhagen for a few days of pastries and walking and pastries and yet more walking with my dear friend Helen. Highlights included afternoon tea at the top of a tower, Kierkegaard’s grave, getting the train over the Oresund to Sweden,  two boat trips, riverside fish n chips n wine, patting the Little Mermaid, accidentally riding the oldest rollercoaster in Europe at Tivoli, Lego lions, Moomin mugs, ALL the goddamn pastries and being given a free chocolate milk by a newsagent. A dream of a trip, I highly recommend Copenhagz to you all.

A mini 6 year Durham reunion for three of us on the August bank holiday included excessive prosecco drinking in the gazebo, drunken Sworkit, river walks, brunching and general revelling in the beauty of our second home town. I also get to spend a lot of my time back in Durham now thanks to signing up to be a mentor for one of the colleges, looking after undergrads and plying them with free soft drinks, it’s all very exciting.

My birthday weekend featured extremes of tragedy and great joy, in the form of two Greek plays and an incredible pigsty cake. After another lovely manicure at the delight that is London Grace in Putney and celebrating our friend Jo’s engagement with some fizz, we headed to the Almeida for the Bakkhai (starring Ben Wishaw and Bertie Cavel) which featured some intriguing choral singing, a lot of general campery and a startlingly unconvincing head on a stick. Lots of good acting though. Sunday involved Konditor & Cook meringue and brownies in the groundling queue for the Oresteia at the Globe, which was pretty impressive, very bloody and featured a massive golden phallus parading through the audience at the end so everyone’s a winner.

Recent gigs:

Florence and the Machine – attended with my uncle Sean who has excellent taste in music and enjoys a little dance. Florence was absolutely the best I’ve seen  her and put on a massively energetic show with perfect vocals. So much joy. Supported by the Staves who I am now a fan of! Good folky stuff.

The Proclaimers – CLAP ALONG PROCLAIMERS. My palms were literally bruised after this gig, but they were so energetically insistent on clapping along that you just get swept up and before you know it you’ve got no fingerprints. I have to stress how beautiful some of their songs are too and how cracking the band were – Sunshine on Leith was a high point. So much audience love for the boys, an absolute roar of sound and energetic singing along, including actual marching during 500 miles, made it a super fun evening.

I finally got to welcome my uni girls to the north for a weekend of eating and fun. I dragged them to the beauteous Armstrong Bridge food market (wild boar pizza anyone?), Pleased to Meet You for copious gins, Lady Grey’s for copious ales, and the Fat Hippo for ultimate burger challenge. Quotes from the Fat Hippo experience include: “Delicious but at the same time horrendous”, “I just want to pay and I just want to die”, and “More of a personal battle than the Great North Run”. So in summary: highly recommended. As well as excessive consumption we also spent all our spare money on make up in the newly opened Kiko store, wandered round Tynemouth market and caused divisions with a game of Harry Potter Trivial Pursuit (it’s not for everyone).

In other burger news, I’ve been to the new Byron burger twice already – once for its opening night and a free burger (the rarebit burger, oh my lord) and once for a 25p burger accompanied by the epic chocolate milkshake. They’ve done a great job on the décor – the green tiles are a bit Ministry of Magic which I love – plus for those of us who remember it as a H&M there’s the novelty of trying to work out what section you’re eating in (I think I was in the casual t-shirts bit).

Miscellaneous:

A few weeks ago I buzzed off down south for two friends’ birthdays and experienced the Bombay Sapphire distillery which is a cracking day out. Lots of ingredient sniffing and awkward crouching by info loudspeakers, a talk about the gin making process and a free gin cocktail at the end. Next time you find yourself near Basingstoke (and let’s face it it’s just a matter of time) I suggest you drop in.

Further good news in the form of the birth of my dear school friend’s first baby, little Layton. Welcome to the world, tiny one.

The Gruffalo has been published in LATIN. I haven’t been this excited since…  well, since Harry Potter was published in Latin. Eheu! Gruffalo!

Could not be happier that Gogglebox is back (favourite quote so far – “If a squirrel was in your house you would lose your mind”, oh Siddiquis I love you all), plus Dowton obv, and have also decided to get into Strictly this year, mainly on the basis that Jay McGuinness is amazing and I cannot stop watching his Pulp Fiction jive.

Ok that’s it, no more spewing of my calendar entries for now. More regular stuff to come – particularly because I’m soon heading to one of the TWO cat cafes that Newcastle now has. Welcome to our new furry overlords.

Brixpig x

2015

Wassuuuuuup. Happy 2015! I was going to wait to do a hello again post until after I’d caught up with all my reviewing, but to be honest that day may never come (see list below). So here I am. Still alive, still pigging about in south London and you know, various theatres. However, I have some news. From mid-April this year I will be trotting myself back up to my homeland of the north (Newcastle, to be precise) to live there instead of here. I won’t technically be a Brixpig any longer (even though now I’m really a Hernepig anyway), and I’m not sure what I’ll do about this blog. I’ll probably carry on. I’ll let ya know.

 

In the meantime, I am planning to massively enjoy my last few months in our fair capital. I spent New Year’s Eve at my friend’s lovely boarding school in Banbury, drinking half pints of prosecco in the common room and dancing round tables, eating excessive amounts of carrot sticks and dicking about with sparklers. And this year I have already seen some stupendous theatre, eaten a load of leftover Christmas cheese, discovered Magic FM’s new Sunday evening radio show starring John Barrowman (you know you want to), and eaten more bags of Mini Eggs than I care to think about.

 

Music-wise, I am still loving Bleachers who I get to see in February (yesssss), and HIGHLY recommend Marina and the Diamonds’s new stuff – she is releasing one new song a month until the Froot album release in April and I can confirm that they are all brilliant so far (particularly Immortal). And in my traditional style, I’m about six months behind the rest of the world and have just discovered how amazing Sia is. I am obsessed with her album. This video of her new single Elastic Heart is amazing (and features Maddie from Dance Moms – who knew my mother’s TV viewing was actually on trend?).

 

 

Telly-wise, I’m catching up with new episodes of Girls and Glee (both underwhelming but I’m sticking with them), and undertook the perhaps unwise feat of watching series 1 and 2 of Broadchurch simultaneously. I have now seen the whole of series 1 so can rumble along with the rest of the nation from this point on – so glad to see Eve Myles back on my screen, she is a cracker. Episodes is also back in the US (and therefore online…) and is on top form so far – Greig, Mangan and le Blanc are a dream trio. Final recommendation is Catastrophe, which started a couple of weeks ago on channel 4 and is fucking hilarious – just watch it and I guarantee you’ll be laughing out loud.

COMING UP IN 2015:
The Changeling at the Wanamaker
How to Hold Your Breath at the Royal Court (Maxine Peake!)
London Gin Festival
Bleachers at Bush Hall
Stevie at Hampstead Theatre (Zoe Wanamaker!)
Antigone at the Barbican (Juliette Binoche!)
The Broken Heart at the Wanamaker
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown at the Playhouse (Tamsin Greig!)
Sweeney Todd at the Coliseum (Emma Thompson!!)
Fleetwood Mac again in Leeds (Christine McVie!)

 

And when I finally get my writing shit together, here is what you can expect to see, reviews-wise:
‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore
Kylie
Electra
Urinetown
The Crucible
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
Chrissie Hynde
Edward Scissorhands
Elephants
Made in Dagenham
(Can you see why it takes me so long??)

 

Lovely to be back.

 

Brixpig x

Kate Bush: Before the Dawn

When: Tuesday 23rd September

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh it’s gonna be the way you always dreamed about it, but it’s gonna be really happening to you.”

Even as I was sitting in my terribly-far-back seat, next to my best friend with our faces painted in Babooshka style and our hair massively backcombed, downing rosé to simultaneously calm myself and hype myself up, I still couldn’t quite believe that I was about to see Kate Bush live. The whole audience seemed strangely tense, as was I – as tense as I had been months before, when I couldn’t sleep for fear I wouldn’t be able to bag tickets when they went on sale the next morning. And then – the incantation from Lily began – “Oh thou, who givest sustenance to the universe…” And on she stomped, leading her entourage like a barefooted, black-gowned pied piper of madness. The rest is honestly a blur. But the best blur of my life. 

The whole evening was madly theatrical: the name of the show (Before the Dawn) appeared above the entrance to the Apollo, not her own name. The first six songs formed a more traditionally gig-like section, like the most insane warm-up you could imagine – and although Hounds of Love is one of my all-time favourite songs, I was concentrating far too hard on absorbing every second of it to fully enjoy it, and it’s the soaring, staggering King of the Mountain that stays in my mind as just literally mind-blowing. 

The Ninth Wave, staged somewhere within a shipwreck and a whale’s ribcage, floating on the sea and under the ice, was ridiculous; assaulting the senses and making you feel like you’d been tossed over waves of adrenaline and shipwrecked somewhere in Hammersmith. Featuring scary fish people, a helicopter with searchlights zooming around the audience, poetic confetti cannons, a floating buoy and a skit with heavy emphasis on burnt sausages, it was enrapturing and immersive. Bush didn’t dance as such over the course of the evening, but the whole thing was still undeniably physical and she was all over the shop while staying note-perfect and sounding just like herself. Concluding with The Morning Fog was a joyous celebration of all on stage being together and restored, and this translated to the happily swaying audience who seemed frankly relieved to have survived.

After a stunned and giddy interval (us not her), A Sky of Honey was soothing and a balm to the senses (and thankfully the Rolf Harris part was beautifully replaced by Bush’s son Bertie), and featured gorgeous lighting effects and projections of birds that I wish I could have playing constantly in the background of my life. Just everywhere I go. The pace increases towards the end, becomes dramatic and almost brutal – a tree slams straight through the grand piano, causing whoops and gasps – and in true dramatic Kate fashion, she metamorphs into a black winged bird to bring the piece to a close. “All of the birds are laughing… Come on let’s all join in…”

Kate herself seemed on the toppest form – engaging and charming, betraying not a jot of her previous famous stage nerves. She was quirky and confident, understated but accessibly cool. You literally wanted to be up there with her, flapping about on the stage, throwing your shoes into the lake and running up that hill. She ended on the incredible Cloudbusting to my huge joy, and after the most deserving of standing ovations we continued shrieking long after we’d run out of the Apollo and into the night. 

Brixpig x

Boy George

When: Thursday 3rd April

 

Where: Indigo2

 

Why: Me mum loves him (don’t they all?)

 

You’re such a flirt, George. Complimenting the crazy mum dancing, the man with the glittery beard, the man with the massive hat on, and generally working the crowd with his funny little dance moves and relaxed attitude, he couldn’t have been more charming. Apart from the tiny strop he threw during a Bob Dylan cover, to get the noisy crowd to shut up (I was in full agreement with him, people who stand at the bar and yell during gigs are dicks, pure and simple).

 

He sounded incredible. His voice was clearly on top form, so soulful and touching, and smooth as silk. And he looked pretty good too (loving the beard) – clearly that raw diet he keeps going on about on Twitter is working for him. The band were cracking and had a super cool brass section, which really built up the sound and gave a different feel to some of the more reggae tunes. The Culture Club songs predictably got the biggest crowd response (Poison, Do you really want to hurt me, and a new chilled-out version of Karma Chameleon), but I loved his somewhat unexpected cover of T-Rex’s Get it on (see video below). He finished with the joyful, arm-waving, peace-n-love, jingly jangly Bow Down Mister, and a euphoric crowd sent waves of love back at him – this crazy, charming music god.

 

Brixpig x

 

Broken Bells

When: Monday 24th March

 

Where: Shepherds Bush Empire

 

Why: James Mercer’s voice

 

When I rented a room in Three Bridges during an internship a few years ago, the first Broken Bells album was a godsend to me. I used to listen to it every day, usually when I was wandering along to the library or aimlessly roaming around Horsham town centre, pretending I was in a movie about a girl with a really boring life. (I could also only listen to the Sand Band’s album first thing in the morning at that time… I tend to get very set in my musical ways during times of upheaval). And when the second album came out, years later, it made my train journeys to another hated office job much funkier. Again, James Mercer’s voice was the hopeful backing track to dreams of a more exciting future involving less paperwork and Thameslink train journeys.

 

The second album, After the Disco, is a cracker – 80s, synthy, both retro and futuristic at the same time, with a couple of banging BeeGees-esque tracks (Holding on for Life is my absolute fave), it manages to be low-key and uplifting at the same time. Shepherds Bush was totally sold out, and the crowd could see their little faces projected onto the screen on-stage, staring back at their excited expressions and ready for a groove. The show began with Perfect World, the first track from the new album, and we found ourselves taking off from the earth in our psychedelic space ship, complete with huge silver globe and a stunning light show and visuals, on a nearly two-hour journey with our talented hosts.

 

Influential producer and musician Danger Mouse and the Shins’ James Mercer make up Broken Bells, and it’s fair to say that they’re a very understated presence on stage, personality-wise. Danger Mouse (more prosaically known as Brian Burton) remained stoic throughout, and it is hilarious how little Mercer speaks – not even a greeting to the crowd, but giving an occasional mumble of the upcoming song title. Having seen the Shins previously I knew what to expect, and somehow Burton and Mercer's seriousness and focus makes you take their whole enterprise more seriously and forces you to appreciate everything else they’re doing up there – their music speaks for them and is charismatic enough by itself. And Mercer’s soaring voice is just outstanding.

 

We landed gently back on earth, after some fantastic views and a euphoric journey, expertly piloted by two unlikely but impressive captains.

 

Brixpig x

HAIM

When: Thursday 6th March

 

Where: Brixton Academy

 

Why: What do you mean, why??

 

I can now say that I have met a person in real life thanks to Twitter! Not like, forged a real-life friendship or met my future spouse or anything, but met a very nice man briefly near Euston to swap cash and Haim tickets. He couldn’t go because his wife was having a night out and so he was babysitting (as I say, he was a nice man), and I had spontaneously decided to try to get tickets as I was too short-sighted to book them months before when I didn’t really know Haim that well. So it was win-win.

 

My mate and I watched them from right up at the back of the Brixton Academy because we decided to do some pre-drinking at home, but such was the force of their stage presence (and literal volume of both sound and hair) that it felt like we were totally engulfed in the show anyway. Our position also provided comedy gold in the form of me sprinting up the little stairs with two last-minute pints trying to get back before they started, tripping over, obviously, and choosing to save the beer over my shins (you know you’d do the same). Fortunately the drinks helped to numb the pain.

 

The girls blasted onto the stage like gorgeous leggy yetis, and launched into Falling with their trademark long locks flying. I am so jealous of their hair and instantly regretted cutting mine short. I’m still growing it now and am months away from the Haimy majesty I seek. They followed this up with If I could change your mind, which is my favourite Haim track. My dancing was enthusiastic, put it that way – but so was literally everyone else’s in there. It was one of the most vibrant and purely enjoyable gig atmospheres I can remember.

 

There were some awesome covers of Beyonce’s XO and Fleetwood Mac’s Oh Well, and they constantly demonstrated how massively talented they all are, switching around lead vocals and different instruments with sisterly ease. Their rapport and banter with the crowd was killer too, chatting away and sharing awkward stories like total legends (Este’s autocorrect fail had the whole crowd in hysterics). They ended on Let me go, all smashing the hell out of different drums and working the crowd up into an appreciative frenzy. They are so enthusiastic and slick, epic and inspiring and FIERCE and exactly what you want from a gig and a band and like life in general.

 

Brixpig x

London Grammar

When: Wednesday 5th March

 

Where: Troxy

 

Why: Good question

 

Wasting my young years. At this gig, I think I was a bit. It was certainly a few hours of my life that I’ll never get back. I returned to the Troxy for the postponed gig that got me my free Future Cinema tickets, and realised what a brilliant venue it is for music. It’s congenial and beautiful, with great bars and views even right at the back, and the little booths are lush. However, once I’d taken all this in, sat through the support (Dan Croll – good, bit Made in Chelsea but a nice presence), I was ready to be carried away and impressed. Instead I ended up lost and floating on an uninspiring, lukewarm sea of dullness. With currents of irritation carrying me along, thanks to the film crew constantly dicking about running backwards and forwards in my eyeline.

 

There is definitely such a thing as being too understated. It can verge on being not at all interesting. And having no stage presence. I have no doubt that London Grammar are all nice, inoffensive people, but that doesn’t make for a great evening of entertainment. Hannah Reid’s voice is genuinely good and has a powerful haunting quality, but it can get a bit unvaried after a while. The group were filming the music video for their song Sights, which meant that Hannah had to leave the stage for a three minute Lemsip session before they performed it, during which time the cameramen went into overdrive, practicing their runs up and down the stairs (see the long shot at the end of the video below and you’ll see what it was they were up to). I really think you should commit to one thing – either do a gig or film your video. Or accept that if you use your live performance as your video, it might be a bit ropey – don’t REPEAT it as your encore (that was the point that drove me out of my stupor to get up and leave). As a group, they really didn’t have the charisma to charm a crowd into going along with the whole video charade, to make up for the annoyance with their persuasive power and banter. The audience all just seemed to be having a good old rumbly chat throughout the entire gig. I’ve seen beautiful, dream-like performances hold an audience spell-bound (Beach House, I’m looking at you), so I know it is possible. But London Grammar definitely aren’t there yet.

 

Brixpig x

 

Turin Brakes

When: Wednesday 20^th November

Where: O2 Shepherds Bush

Why: Love of old skool

When I told my friend I was going to see Turin Brakes, she texted back with “Never heard of them. Is that a typo?” Admittedly, they’re not the sort of band I ever would have encountered either, if it hadn’t been for a friend’s collection of copied indie CDs in my first year of uni. Once I had found them however, they became fixed in my life as a firm napping soundtrack favourite (alongside bands like Nizlopi, Starsailor, and the Corrs). That sounds like a dig but it’s actually a huge compliment; I have to be able to relax into a band to be able to nap, and their sound welcomed me in and helped me to chill out and have a think, which is vital when most of the rest of your uni time is spent either in total denial about upcoming exams or stress-writing essays at the last minute (two of my key areas of expertise, I’ll have you know).

This tour was to showcase their sixth album We Were Here which stayed true to their sound but with a bit of a “psychedelic edge”, which is almost never a bad thing. The concert was mild mannered but enthusiastic, with some epic jazz flute action and bass guitar flipping. During pauses between songs, the guys made sure to charm the crowd to keep them involved – “We tune because we care” – and it definitely worked, judging by the obvious affection for the band emanating off the crowd in waves. My favourite song of all is their classic track Painkiller which is a constant on any playlist I create, and always takes me vividly back to sitting in my tiny college room in Durham drinking a 50p pint of coke, leaning back on my chair and casually wasting my time in the most delightful way possible.

Thanks for a cracking evening boys.

Brixpig x

Barry Gibb

When: Thursday 3^rd October

Where: O2

Why: YOU SHOULD BE DANCING, YEAH

All my musical life was leading up to this moment. It’s difficult to describe how much the BeeGees mean to me. I remember staying at my auntie’s house lying in bed listening to her BeeGees Greatest Hits CDs on my Discman (yeah) and having a genuine epiphany. They are song-writing GODS. White suit-wearing GODS. Falsetto GODS. In my gap year I used to sit in my friend’s car after our Greek classes (you know it) perfecting my falsetto Barry Gibb impressions, and so to find myself awaiting his arrival on stage at the O2 was a real pinch-me moment.

I have to say, it was the most emotional concert I’ve ever been to. There were tributes to Maurice and Robin, there were videos and songs in their honour, and I found myself crying at least three times. Barry really held it together, it was the perfect mix of nostalgia and happiness, disco tunes and memory-tugging ballads, public-facing showbiz and personal memories, and it felt like a privilege to be there. This man has shaped the British (and international) music industry and infiltrated our minds with his catchy, catchy melodies, and for that he should be revered and loved.

Bless you BG.

Brixpig x

Kris Kristofferson

When: Thursday 26^th September

Where: Union Chapel

Why: For my mum

I had no expectations of this gig, other than knowing that there was a chance my mum might pass out or do something embarrassing. All I knew about Kris K was that he once starred in ‘A star is born’ opposite Barbra Streisand and was apparently a rock sex god. Given that he’s now 78 however, I wasn’t sure how this would have played out over the decades. I decided not to do any research but to take him as I found him.

The Union Chapel was the perfect venue for Mr K, partly since you can’t take booze into the church – the image of an audience sat in pews with mugs of tea while a gentleman crooner takes them through an endless journey of story songs will stay with me for a long time. It was the sweetest, most civilised concert I think I’ve ever seen, and was just absolutely lovely. I know it doesn’t sound thrilling, but Kristofferson has a shining charisma and obvious heart which really draw you to him and enraptures you, and this is clearly how he’s become a massive Country star. 

He opened with the inviting assurance that “there ain’t nothing sweeter than naked emotions.” He was effortlessly charming and deprecating, and his voice has a gentle country music air and was very strong. His songs were short and sweet, capturing little human stories or funny tales, quirky and cheeky and moving all in one. You’re gathering in all the wisdom he’s gained over his fascinating life (Google him). Plus he had more than one harmonica, which instantly made me love him.

At the end of the gig he stayed on stage for ages greeting fans, chatting and grasping their hands as they reached up to him (like the messiah on an altar). Obviously mum was straight down there and, as she breathlessly recounted to me on the way back down the aisle, “he held onto my hand much longer than anyone else!” Dreamy.

I’ve discovered a new musical love, purely down to my mum. It’s so annoying that she’s always right.

Brixpig x

Fleetwood Mac

When: Wednesday 25^th September

Where: O2

Why: RETURN OF THE MAC

Before I say ANYTHING, I have to provide the hugest of shout-outs to the numerous girls in my office who sat with refreshing fingers poised on the Ticketmaster website all those months ago, ready to bag me tickets for this pinnacle of my life’s gigs. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have got in and that would have devastated me, so in a sense they basically saved my life. Thanks girls.

With my mum in tow, and after an exceptionally satisfying Nando’s session (free chicken, bitches), we bounded into the O2 arena at least 45 minutes before the start of the show, not able to hold back our excitement any longer. A lifelong love of the Mac was finally reaching its nadir and the anticipation was massive. Then suddenly, after no support (who could support the Mac?), they burst onto the stage to ‘Second hand news’ and the audience leapt headlong into an evening that I’m sure will stay with them for years.

It was a good value show at nearly 3 hours (considering most tickets were around £90 it was just as well), and the band had great chemistry on stage – it seems that Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham have put their deep mutual hatred aside and become BFFs again, and it was very much the Stevie and Lindsey show overall. Lindsey is an incredible guitar player and never left the stage even for a moment, and his ‘Big Love’ solo was actually mind-blowing. I could have done without his tedious song intros though – wrap it up, Bucks. But it was Stevie who carried the evening for me; she’s the stand-out star and her voice is still outrageously good. You just want to thank God for her existence whenever she performs, and this night’s version of ‘Rhiannon’ was awesome. She also dedicated ‘Landslide’ to the Mac’s original legendary guitarist Peter Green, who to my massive surprise was apparently watching from the wings – I really thought he had died decades ago and that Stevie was talking metaphorically (not entirely impossible) until I googled him when things got weird. Ignorance city: population me.

The visuals and lighting were more impressive than I’d been expecting, imagining the band to do it old school and keep the focus on them – but the backing screen videos were varied and very cool, particularly during ‘Gold dust woman’ and the epic ‘Tusk’ (one of my favourite Mac songs ever).

After a solid gold set-list, the first encore featured huge tune ‘World turning’ which incorporated Mick Fleetwood’s mad, bad drum solo which lasted nearly five minutes.  An Observer reviewer described Mick on this tour as “an increasingly jester-like figure, sitting worryingly near a gong” which is both hysterical and totally accurate.

I was also massively lucky that I didn’t end up getting tickets for the first night in London, as they didn’t get the amazing bonus in the second interval that was the return of Christine McVie to sing ‘Don’t Stop’. She was led on stage, followed by a faithful stand up keyboard and the most enormous roar of approval from a crowd that I’ve ever heard. It was a genuinely emotional and historical moment and was the natural and obvious high point of the show. She was great and I hear she’s now actually re-joined Fleetwood Mac, so we can just hope they launch straight into another tour featuring the full line up and full back catalogue (her tunes such as ‘Everywhere’, ‘You make loving fun’, ‘Little lies’, ‘Songbird’ etc were missing this time, which was a massive shame).

Given that Christine’s return was a huge high point and their joint curtain call was so well received, you would have thought that would be the natural ending point. But no. A second encore ensued – not against that in principle, but it was a bit of a lame duck after the massiveness that was C-McVie. They didn’t end on huge crowd pleasers but on slow tunes including ‘Silver springs’. These were then followed by grateful spiels of love from first Stevie running back on stage, then Mick. Nice sentiments, wrong timing guys. Although Mick wrapping up by screaming “THE MAC IS BACK!” was endearing and powerful.

Overall, an epic evening from an epic band and one of the highlights of my life.

Brixpig x