27th September 2017
It was a day destined for irritation. It began well enough and we boarded the plane, no problem. Something was failing in the cockpit. It went from the engineers are coming to check, to we may have a replacement plane, to a passenger saying he’d had notification the flight was cancelled, to that being confirmed.
There was another plane in an hour but it was first come first served and we were last in the queue.
We had to wait 2 & 1/2 hours for the next available flight.
I spent most of it straw blowing.
We got to the venue at 1/4 to 8 and rescheduled stage time for 9:15 pm.
Back stage was lush.
I did a rapid make over listening to an audio book. Changed. Packed a car bag with face wipes and a dry top and my sandwich for the long drive afterwards, and we warmed up.
I was pleased that the voice was not diminished by last night’s gig,
We went on.
The sound was challenging but not unworkable.
A good start, but then the cracks. This was not an ideal venue.
They were serving food and doing a drinks service, and it was quickly patent that some people had come because they could, and had no interest in anything beyond hits and Yazoo. If that. They were loud. My back went up. In tender moments the chat was unashamed to the point where I dropped all pretence and sang staring at them. Then I heard radio intercoms in aching pauses. The front of the audience were edged back for drinks service. All in the middle of ‘Other’, and after I had asked for quiet on behalf of those that came to listen.
Some poor bastard called for ‘Midnight’ mid my announcing a different song and I snapped and let rip.
This wasn’t a Yaz gig.
I’m not a fucking wedding singer.
I don’t take requests.
I have a set list.
You don’t go to a film and ask for a random different ending.
I feel bad for that.
He got the fall out for the disinterested types who had the tickets that they could afford and no understanding of anything that I am.
Today I was without camouflage. For this I was away from my family and living in solitude and silence. I felt awful for those that came to hear and they were here and willing me on. I could see them the length of the room. Giving me love and support and maybe seeing me withdrawing. I tried hard only to see them.
The applause happened. The encore happened. And then it was over.
I went from the stage to the hire car Tim had acquired. I pulled off my shirt and pulled on a dry T.
I wiped the make up from my face and ate half my ham and cheese sandwich, and now I am drinking wine from the bottle that is here for me and opened, out of a plastic cup.
I’m sorry I was arch.