THEY HAVE ARRIVED.... I hurried to the post office to finally collect two tickets to see one of the most talented rock bands around the Foo Fighters. I wasn't even out of the post office door when I began carefully opening the envelope that I had waited weeks for. I was like Charlie from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.' The tickets were gold and shiny and when the sun shone brightly on them the dull surfaced gleamed. I shuffled back to the car, whilst squealing, 'We got them, we finally got them.'
You see I had to move heaven and earth to get these tickets. My husband bought me tickets four years ago to see the Foo Fighters for my 30th birthday whilst I was pregnant with our miracle baby. It was at Newcastle Arena and I turned up stayed for 3 songs and had to leave. You see they rocked so hard the baby didn't like the vibration and all I done was vomit, I vomited in the seats, in the toilets including the men's (where a man was bragging about the size of his dick whilst I'm chucking in the urinal) and in the corridor. My wonderful husband held my hair off my face as I vomited in the bin on the way out. He had a romantic plan to give me an eternity ring while 'Times like these.' were playing, but considering I was really ill he had to make do with giving me the ring in between retching and vomiting to the song instead. And since then I have tried for FOUR years to get tickets to see them. (see blog Music and grief for full story) and it finally happened on the 2nd of July 2011.
Our tickets arrived on Friday one day before the concert (cutting it close) and because we have been let down so many times before, I didn't bother planning this trip at all until I actually got the tickets in my hand. So on Saturday we jumped in the car with no plan and drove 5 hours, cleared security and walked up the tree lined mound at 4.30pm to a view I will never forget. The sun was shinning on a beautiful summers day whilst 70,000 people were drinking and laughing waiting for the Foo's to play. Me and Ste just looked at each other, we were dumb struck, we had never seen so many people all in the same place before and it was hypnotic. Armed with six bottles of booze, a bottle of coke, and a shed load of painkillers, we started the slow descent down the ramp to try and get close to the stage. A task which seemed impossible due to the sheer volume of people between us and point B. When we edged our way down the ramp, we tried to get closer to the stage but there were two barriers separating us from the inner circle. Stephen spotted a route to the gates of the inner pit, and I spotted that you needed and orange or grey wrist tag to gain access.
I had to try and work my mojo to get into this VIP area, I'd come this far and a pathetic barrier wasn't gonna stop me. So I done what any woman would do. I used my greatest assets. Yep the mighty boobies. The huge gorilla man with a large vein in his head that was standing at the entrance to the VIP area, was no match for my Jedi boob mind trick. Bottles were not allowed in the VIP area and those with tags were being stopped and asked to put there drinks in paper cups before entering, so I placed the bottles strategically near my cleavage leaned in real close and looked at him with my big brown eyes saying in a softest sexiest voice I could, 'excuse me but can you plllease help me with these' as I them heaved them closer to his face. 'Sure.' he said as he smiled. I giggled and fluttered the eye lashes saying how brilliant he was for helping me, while in the back of my mind I was thinking, 'He's buying it, he's buying it, I cant' believe he's buying it.' I then grabbed a protesting Stephen's hand (he didn't want to leave his booze) and dragged him past the gorilla whilst I occupied him by spilling a little beer on my boob. I know, I know it was a totally filthy stunt to pull, but I really wanted in. Now please bear in mind that Stephen had no idea that this was the VIP area, and had no idea about my plan or what I was doing to get us in. Tricks like that used to work when I was in my early 20's and I can't believe it actually worked again. Once we were in the 'PIT' Stephen finally realised where he was and said, 'How the fuck did you manage to get us in here.' He couldn't believe that with all the security, bodyguards, railings, fences and walkie talkies that my boobies managed to get us in the inner sanctum.
Once inside we sat down in the hot sunshine and laughed and drank happily whilst singing Biffy Clyro songs, and just as the hot summer day turned into a warm summer evening out walked four extraordinarily gifted musicians, no gimmicks, no tricks, no drama. Just a band of men with guitars, amps, drums and microphones and the crowd roared. I have never in my life heard the roar of that many people when they opened with, 'Burning Bridges.' The pit went CRAZY. It was like a prison riot. The circle of people around us thankfully created a barrier between us and the mosh pit that opened up close by, so I didn't get battered, but I did get swept up a few times and I'm a heavy girl. I sang as loud my vocal chords would allow whilst my voice connected with thousands of others that carried the musical vibration into the air, that could be heard for miles around.
As the set continued there were many unforgettable moments. But a few in particular stood out for me. When they sang 'Monkey wrench' the crowd became frenzied. Air guitars and air drums were played all around whilst we sand so loud the gods could have heard us. The crowd became an ocean of P-waves as people naturally expanded and contracted with musical motion. It was phenomenal. I remember only being able to see the sky and raised arms. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the lyrics with hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I bathed in the warm setting sun while the energy raised in the arena raised the roof off an open aired venue.
'The Best' was another of my favourites for obvious reasons. I can't remember much of what happened during the song, as it was all a blur. But I do remember the feeling it left me with, delight. The fans went berserk at the chorus and all I remember was singing, 'oh oh o, oh oh o' over and over again until Dave caved and he sang it again.
Earlier that day we met a couple of really nice lads called Rich and Paul from Swindon, and as we were all chatting Stephen told them that he would have to stand behind me to protect my back from getting bashed. So the lads interlocked arms around me which created this safe little bubble and I rocked and sang harder than I ever had before. The atmosphere was electrifying, and if the amount of positive energy generated from that event could have been contained it would have have fueled London for a year.
Of course because we snuck into the VIP area we couldn't risk leaving in case we didn't get back in. So we stayed where we were. Busting for the toilet Stephen resorted to urinating in a large paper cup which was concealed by my jacket. As he started to pee he said, 'What do I do if I fill the cup.' Shrugging my shoulders I said, 'I don't think you have to worry about that it's a pretty big cup.' Well his face turned to horror as he whispered as quiet as he could as a rock concert. 'The end of my knob is wet and warm, shit I've nearly filled the cup. what do I do?' I really couldn't help him I was laughing to much, plus I was having my own problems with that department. I actually thought I could squeeze a jumbo cup down my trousers, pull me knickers aside and squat pee in the cup. Just as I was about to begin this crazy feat, I thought, 'how do I pull out a full cup of pee from my jeans without spilling any. So I had to resort to the ultimate challenge. HOLD IT IN!! I truly showed the power of clenching my muscles as I held it in for 5 hours. After that the pain was so bad I thought I was going to get a kidney infection so I decided we had to leave the pit. I walked like Shakira dances, trying to make it to the toilets before I realised they were at the entrance. So I resorted to creating a ladies toilet in the bushes near the edge of the bowl. I was gutted because we missed 'All my Life,' Thanks to my bladder. But we ended up getting back in the VIP area surprisingly. I tore off a grey chord from my hoodie and tied it around my wrist to get past the female guard, while Stephen just walked in.
Towards the end of the gig people were urinating where ever they could. Mostly it was guys pissing in cups and then hurling them into the crowd. I had a Bacardi Breezer that I had been nursing for an hour when a cup of pee got flung over and went into my cup as I drank it. Totally Gross. The thing was that it was so warm. it was nice to get showered with cool water, until you played the 'smell my finger' game to see if it was booze or piss. Piss was met with a 'ah fuck.' whilst booze was met with, 'another man down.' And by the end of the night I could have turned a skunks nose up. Between the attack of the annoying Green fly and people hurling all manner of wet liquids, I was covered in hundreds of dead bugs, piss, Bacardi, cider, beer, cigarette smoke and sweat. I smelt of The Foo's latest fragrance aptly named 'Gig Crud.' It's like 'Sex Panther' and has a pungent aroma which singes the nostril hair for added kick.
As the band played classic Foo's material, mixed it with tracks from their new album, they performed solidly for just under 3 hours with surprise guests from the awesome Roger Taylor and Alice Copper, As the band produced one surprise after another the casualties of war began happening more frequently. The girl stood next to me who was wasted, fell asleep standing up. Something I've never seen before. A man forced his way through the crowd like a RHINO with his hand over his mouth before he stopped in front of us, my heart stopped I couldn't have coped he he vomited on me, luckily he wretched, caught it and ploughed through the rest of the crowd. I do hope it made it away from people before he hurled. And then there was the miserable twat who moaned the whole time she was at the gig. Clearly she wasn't a fan and had been dragged their by her partner. She twiddled her bracelet and yawned a lot and periodically sighed whilst asking her fella if they could move and go somewhere else. Based on her feeble attempt to enjoy herself and her annoying behaviour I didn't think their relationship was going to last the night especially when at nearly 7ft tall he stood in front of her blocking her view of the stage whilst hitting her in the face with his back pack as he jumped up and down. She was a massive twat. I would have done the same.
I got to sing to my beloved 'Times like these,' and loved every moment, although it was a song I had waited to hear all gig, surprisingly I wasn't disappointed when Dave ran down the centre stage to join the small stage at the centre of the bowl to perform it to all the people at the back of the crowd. I thought it was a good thing he done for those fans who thought they got the 'shitty seats,' as he put it. But the pinnacle of the night was 'Everlong.' The vibration of pure melodic harmony sung by 70,000 fans in unison with the band whilst fireworks blazed the night sky felt like all my past dreams and future desires of seeing this particular band perform collided into a single moment captured in time. As the sound waves pounded through my bones all that existed was that moment. A moment of pure intoxication which brought many people to tears and then the gig ended as it began with a band of extraordinary musicians saying 'Thank you' to the crowd as they left the stage with the amp screeching feedback, to hold that moment for a few seconds longer.
Today it seems that last night was a blur, I can't walk at all, I punished my back more than I ever have in three years, I can't talk because I lost my voice, I ache from my throat down to my feet. I have blisters and headache from hell, my stomach hurts from all the meds I had to take and even my shins hurt. I am fatigued and have survived most of the day sucking cherry lozenges and popping double dose pain killers with litres of Lucozade. Well it's not a good concert if you still have your stomach lining is it?. There is so much I haven't written about in this blog, the men dressed in mullets, the curly haired knob in the Motorhead t-shirt who got sucker punched by a 4ft blond lass, or the journey home which was an adventure in itself. And I'm left with a longing to recapture moments gone. But they are now memories and will fade with time which is why this is a long blog.
In years to come I can read this blog and I will remember all the little moments and terrific people that made the night special. And I finally got to say Thank You to the Foo's the only way I knew how, by rocking the night away.
