Take That relit my fire for gigs - and made me a teary-eyed teenager again
I don't go to many music gigs. I can count on one hand the bands I have seen over the years.
When my sister asked if I wanted to go and see Morrissey a few months ago, I mumbled something along the lines of "work...busy...up to my eyes". In fact, I balked at the idea of standing in a crowd of Morrissey fans, as they all sang back every one of his songs.
You see, I'm a shuffle kind of girl. I don't listen to full albums on my iPhone. I will skip from one genre to the other, moving from tacky Europop to soothing Vivaldi.
Yes, I am an attention deficit muso. This was my concern when I headed into the 3 Arena on Friday night to see Take That. As I, and thousands of other 30-40-something women (and six men), walked into the venue I could already feel myself wanting out. How far would we be from the stage.
Would I be hemmed in? Would Gary see that I was bored? How far away was the bar? My 'gig-itis' was kicking in. But within minutes, everything changed.
As the music became louder and the tension built, we were all ready for the three lads to appear. When they did, my fears disappeared and I was engrossed.
You see, I didn't realise that I actually knew every single song. I was that uber-fan who mouthed along to each lyric.
I found myself punching the air, waving at Howard as he walked around the stage, shouting "come over here Mark" and screaming as Gary played the beautiful melody on the piano to 'Come into my life'.
Myself and the gang of girls were on a high when the concert ended - and I can now count on two hands the amount of gigs I have been to.
I might not have the best taste, but taste doesn't matter if you are air punching, teary-eyed and a teenager all over again.