this one goes out to the one i love.
so. this weekend then, different. not different in the way you use the word to badly disguise it was a different type of shit to that you may have experienced before, i mean different good. the sun shone, unbearably so at times, but providing a beautiful backdrop for r.e.m doing what they do best in hyde park. choosing idlewild as a support act was genius on their behalf, unfortunately even the queues for warm drinks didn't mean us missing feeder meander through a thankfully condensed version of their boring back catalogue. but for the sheer brilliance of seeing "one of those bands" that i actually do love, even this wasn't torture in the way stephens insisted it was.
from the moment r.e.m arrived on stage, they played with triumphant grins - three old friends just doing their day job, but as if the next day could be the end of the world as we know it. the worry with the legendary few is that they can easily sell eighty thousand tickets per show but that they play with the sort of effortless ease that pop videos are made of. thats not to say r.e.m weren't perfect, it comes with practice, but they entertained, playing for everyone with a clear sense of gratitude and real actual talent. what a band - every burst of michael stipe's pelvic energy and each second of timeless jangly guitar made me grateful that clare found herself working amongst london's squirrels.
the setlist was as follows:
bad day
what's the frequency, kenneth?
the one i love
drive
the outsiders
sitting still
wanderlust
animal
leaving new york
everybody hurts
electron blue
me in honey
electrolite
so fast so numb
e-bow the letter
final straw
orange crush
walk unafraid
losing my religion
with the encore comprising of:
imitation of life
the great beyond
nightswimming
it's the end of the world as we know it (and i feel fine)
i'm gonna dj
man on the moon
ace. we'll skim past the eternity it took to make it back to archway, we got to sleep eventually in a real actual bed and when the afternoon had almost arrived we feasted on buttery crumpets and bagels, as is sunday tradition. alex and i were also invited to partake in clare's own tradition of going to comedy 4 kids on a sunday afternoon. it was all quite funny, or most bits were, especially isabelle's pre-show comedyramblemumbles, much confusion about the origin of oranges and orange - or perhaps the oranging of oranges and the colour orange and the grand finale song. even all the lucozade in the world didn't make much make sense, so much for the brain energy it supposedly gives you, evidently it just fuels confusion.
after a visit to a nearby pub, clare put us on a bus which eventually, when we found the connecting bus and had sweated out all of the lucozade, got us to our nan and her gaggle of adoring fans. fingers crossed she is getting better, she is confused and in her own world mostly at the moment, but with any luck it will pass. it was a strange experience though, it was like someone had given her a book of her life and her memories and she was randomly flicking through it. except maybe some of the pages were glued together or too heavy to turn because she kept getting stuck on the same page. she repeatedly told dad how the only way to get him to stop crying when he was little was to cuddle him.. and yet later when gloria asked her who he was, she just stared at him with giant glossy eyes and smiled. she's a beautiful lady, i hope we can all be with her for as long as possible.
now its gone half past three and the sky is covered in grey clouds, i've got things to do but i don't especially feel like doing them.
xxx
from the moment r.e.m arrived on stage, they played with triumphant grins - three old friends just doing their day job, but as if the next day could be the end of the world as we know it. the worry with the legendary few is that they can easily sell eighty thousand tickets per show but that they play with the sort of effortless ease that pop videos are made of. thats not to say r.e.m weren't perfect, it comes with practice, but they entertained, playing for everyone with a clear sense of gratitude and real actual talent. what a band - every burst of michael stipe's pelvic energy and each second of timeless jangly guitar made me grateful that clare found herself working amongst london's squirrels.
the setlist was as follows:
bad day
what's the frequency, kenneth?
the one i love
drive
the outsiders
sitting still
wanderlust
animal
leaving new york
everybody hurts
electron blue
me in honey
electrolite
so fast so numb
e-bow the letter
final straw
orange crush
walk unafraid
losing my religion
with the encore comprising of:
imitation of life
the great beyond
nightswimming
it's the end of the world as we know it (and i feel fine)
i'm gonna dj
man on the moon
ace. we'll skim past the eternity it took to make it back to archway, we got to sleep eventually in a real actual bed and when the afternoon had almost arrived we feasted on buttery crumpets and bagels, as is sunday tradition. alex and i were also invited to partake in clare's own tradition of going to comedy 4 kids on a sunday afternoon. it was all quite funny, or most bits were, especially isabelle's pre-show comedyramblemumbles, much confusion about the origin of oranges and orange - or perhaps the oranging of oranges and the colour orange and the grand finale song. even all the lucozade in the world didn't make much make sense, so much for the brain energy it supposedly gives you, evidently it just fuels confusion.
after a visit to a nearby pub, clare put us on a bus which eventually, when we found the connecting bus and had sweated out all of the lucozade, got us to our nan and her gaggle of adoring fans. fingers crossed she is getting better, she is confused and in her own world mostly at the moment, but with any luck it will pass. it was a strange experience though, it was like someone had given her a book of her life and her memories and she was randomly flicking through it. except maybe some of the pages were glued together or too heavy to turn because she kept getting stuck on the same page. she repeatedly told dad how the only way to get him to stop crying when he was little was to cuddle him.. and yet later when gloria asked her who he was, she just stared at him with giant glossy eyes and smiled. she's a beautiful lady, i hope we can all be with her for as long as possible.
now its gone half past three and the sky is covered in grey clouds, i've got things to do but i don't especially feel like doing them.
xxx