So I made it through hell. It’s been a few days since my Boyzone experience. So I thought I would let you know how it went.
Thursday the 7th of February 2019. Started like any other day, except we had to go out. We got a call from my father in-law, giving us the bad news that he was too ill to take us to the O2. As usual the wife got a bit panicky. But the solution was easy. We would take public transport. We could have gone down on the Jennifer, my motorcycle. But the wife had injured her wrist and didn’t want to make it worst. So that’s what we did. The wife doesn’t like using public transport. It’s more to do with not knowing where she is going and any little indication of being lost turns her into an unstable panic monster and nothing will calm her down. So yours truly being there, she was in safe hands.
We arrived at the O2 and we made our way to the Merchandise shop where the wife spent the usual stupids amount of money on various items that had the word ‘Boyzone’ printed on them.
After making our way in to the venue. It was time to purchase the one and only drink of the night, each and some chips. Total £12.80. Awesome. To be honest the chips were nice. but not worth the price. But what do you expect being trapped in a venue and the vendor’s being aloud to abuse that fact.
We found our seats and the wife was impressed with the seats I had picked out. I had spent about an hour fighting everyone for those seats, online. I didn’t pay for them, of course.
The first act came out and they were bad. SO, so bad. I don’t remember what they were called, I know it started with a M. But they remind me of a pub band that mumbled through their set. And then encouraged you visit them on various social media.
They could have been alot better if they had a bit more confidence in themselves and their act. Even their music felt like they were mumbling through it. There was no oomph. Just depressing. I really don’t know how they were picked up.
The second act were just as bad. I think he was called Asher Knight.
They were like a modern day cabaret/karaoke act. Asher Knight being over confident with his abilities as a singer. Self promoting all the way through. The cliche “What! What!” from the female singer. When trying to hold the high notes, for as long as possible, she ending up turning it in to scream. All trying to act cool and failing miserably. Again WHY?! The only thing I can think of is that Boyzone brought them in to make them look good. Or they just didn’t care. And I would agree. If I had the option I would rather listen to Boyzone then put up with this rubbish.
Finally they left and we could relax for a while. Then it turned out we were in the wrong seats and so, leaving our rubbish behind, we moved to the right ones. Finding out the new seats were in a better position than before. So the wife was happy.
The wife decided to use her camera. After a couple of shots the memory was full, realising that she had forgotten her SD card. And so I gave up my camera so she could snap away. Over four hundred snaps later we had taken plenty of pictures. Most were not bad. Pretty good actually.
And then they arrived… The air suddenly got moist from the thousands of women in attendance all getting wet at the same time. The screams were immense. As Boyzone were lowered to the stage floor.
After I got the initial shots with my camera the wife took control and she never put the camera down for most of the, just under, two hour show.
It took about two or three songs in when I couldn’t continue anymore. So I had a back up. I had just spent a stupid amount of money on a set of headphones:
Audio Technica ATH-M40x. With the noise isolation. They helped to cut out some of the noise from the show and the audience. I also brought my old, trusty
Sansa Clip+ MP3 player and tried to listen the live recording of Volbeat: Live From Telia Parken. Fair enough, I couldn’t really listen to it properly with a full concert going on. But it helped.
So after a few songs and continuous thanking the crowd for their support over the last 25 years. They disappeared for a few minutes for a clothes change and to make their way to a smaller stage in the middle of the arena so they could do there tribute to Stephen Gately… Which was nice. They seemed so sincere. For those who didn’t notice. That was sarcasm.
Whilst I tried to listen to my music. I looked around the arena and took in how many was actually in the O2. I notice that about 80 percent of people there were women, not really surprising. The rest being men, some look like they actually wanted to be there and then the odd few that were in the same boat as me. Being there for there spouse or girlfriend. The faces on them explained everything. I had to chuckle at this. Then all of a sudden everyone started doing awkward arm movements to some song that came on. Which was weird.
It was then time for the usual before encore disappearance. All bands do this. They say their goodbyes and then leave. Listening and waiting for the crowd to scream for more. The way to tell when the concert is over is to wait for the arena lights to come back on. If they don’t you know they are coming back. And so they did.
And that was that. Everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves. The missus love it. The audience were either wringing out their knickers or put on new ones. Okay that’s a lie. But it would have been a sight to see. People from size 6 to size 56 changing knickers. Can you be happy and puke at the same time? I don’t know.
So we went home. Next time is my turn. Hollywood Babble-on at the Hammersmith Apollo. May 15th. Should be good.
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