Noah, the Whale and Me.
The village hall was dark and uncomfortably hot due to the spotlights blazing and the sea of bodies crushed together, yet still dancing to the infectious rhythms and ear-popping drums that made your entire body vibrate, and your ribs want to burst out your chest. In front of me were four men I had only seen on NME or my CD covers. There was Charlie Fink, the skinny, gaunt and soulful lead singer, Fred Abbott, the older, wiser and totally at ease pianist, Urby Whale, the small, wild Bass guitarist and, finally, Tom Hobden, the young and free fiddler and backing singer.
I had waited for this moment for at least three years. After falling in love with their first album “Peaceful the World Lays Me Down” and then feeling my heart brutally break during their second album “The First Days of Spring”( in which Fink writes about his brutal breakup with folk singer Laura Marling), I was practically buzzing for at least a week before the gig itself. I knew all the words, I had the third album, “Last Night on Earth” in my bag. I was ready to bask in music of Noah and the Whale, to listen to the songs that were so melancholic of the past, yet hopeful for the future.
The concert passed in a whirl of light and sound. The band had told jokes, stories, played flawlessly, and sang their hearts out. I, in return, had laughed, grinned stupidly, and sang until I was hoarse, as did the rest of the audience. The gig was cosy and intimate, and though I knew barely anyone at the gig, I still felt a sense of belonging as we all chanted along to Charlie’s rich, baritone voice, as Toms rose and fell into the background. I had never felt so much like a part of something. As the show ended, I looked back at the empty stage and wished I could have told them how much I had enjoyed the show.
It was only when I was walking around the back of the venue when I saw a group of four, all in matching suits and trilby hats, all holding instruments, and chatting away. It had to be them. It had to be, I couldn’t think of any other buttoned up, suited and booted musical artists that were playing in Bristol… So I casually composed myself, notified my friend Ellie, and we did what any completely calm and composed fan would do.
We grabbed a pen and some merchandise, and we ran.
I don’t think I had ever run so fast in my life. Me and Ellie sprinted to the back entrance, as I frantically tried to think of ways to sound witty, funny, and genuine all at the same time. In the end, as we ran up to them, all my ideas of greetings and wit just melted out of my head and were replaced with thoughts of “Charlie is so short!”, “Should I ask if I can have Tom’s hat?”, “I will tell this story to EVERYONE.” So as Tom and Charlie turned round and greeted us, I settled for meekly saying “Hi…” and giving them my CD to sign.
They were everything I expected of them, and more. They were quietly confident, intelligent, charming and genuinely seemed flattered when I told them I adored their music. Fortunately, Ellie was thinking a little straighter than I was, so she asked them for a picture, of which they happily accepted.
They smelt of wood smoke and pine, and as I stood between Tom and Charlie, with their arms around me, I thought my heart might just explode. As they returned the camera, I wanted to tell them how much I had idolised them, how their music had helped me through so much, how their gig was a triumph, but instead I just gaped and grinned and said ‘thank you’ more times than it should be humanly possible.
It was only after the band has said their farewells and left when me and Ellie completely lost the plot. My skin was still warm where Charlie and Tom were huddled around me, and my CD covered in their signatures. We ran, and jumped and laughed and generally looked completely mad, before heading home.
It’s safe to say I didn’t sleep that much that night.
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The form would probably be a music blog post, mainly because a music magazine would probably want more focus on the gig itself. I focused a lot on Tom and Charlie, saying “They smelt of wood smoke and pine”, and I didn’t go into too much detail about the gig itself, such as not telling them the set list, only that the band had “played flawlessly”. The purpose of this article mainly to entertain, so I used phrases that could be humorous and easy to read, such as when “all my ideas of wit just melted out of my head and were replaced with thoughts of “Charlie is so short!”, “Should I ask if I can have Tom’s hat?”, “I will tell this story to EVERYONE.”. Although it’s other purposes are to review and inform, as I gave them information about the band, such as album history, and information on the type of music, saying it was “melancholic when thinking of the past, yet hopeful for the future” as well as giving a short review of the concert itself. The Audience would be roughly based on just Noah and the Whale fans. Their fans are usually young adults aged from 16 to 25, though there are exceptions with some older fans, and some younger, so I made sure to make my piece of writing mature, but not too much so, so I can, hopefully, keep everyone engaged. I made sure to give information about Charlie and Tom, saying “they were quietly confident, intelligent, charming and genuinely seemed flattered when I told them I adored their music.”
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Maybe?
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