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Add your voice to the sound of the crowd

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Old... Gold.

There really is something rather joyous about seeing a favourite band live.

And there’s something rather miraculous if you’re seeing them getting on for 40 years since you first discovered them. I was lucky enough to see both Midge Ure (former owner of pointy sideburns, Vienna means nothing to him) and The Human League (still concerned in case you don’t want them, baby) last weekend, and both were fabulous.

Both were also hitting the top of the charts in the early 80s and whilst they have had long careers, many people will remember them largely for their first flourishes of success.

Neither Midge, nor The League’s front-man, Phil Oakey, are exactly youngsters now, with bus-passes just around the corner, and the interesting hairstyles long gone. But boy, they still go for it, rattling out the hits and taking their audience back to a time before worrying about pension funds and aching knees became the norm.

Neither insisted on playing much in the way of later numbers, wisely understanding that the hits are what everyone wants.

A quick look around the auditorium was enough to confirm the approximate age of those gathered to re-live their youth. Grey hair and bald heads were abundant, and the world record for Dad Dancing may have well have been broken, but did we care if we looked a bit daft? Hell, no – a couple of hours off from being depressingly middle-aged is a glorious thing.

It was probably past quite a few people’s bedtime (mine included), and the after gig tipple may now be cocoa rather than a couple of pints, but I suspect that the hundreds of people who went back to the 80s for the evening didn’t mind staying up late one bit.

I didn’t even have to worry about the fact that the New Romantic icons are now old people. We were so high up in the venue that they should consider pumping oxygen up there - it was the kind of altitude light aircraft normally operate at. At that distance, I couldn’t see the passage of time.

Of course, no gig is complete without the obligatory tour T Shirt. I proudly wore my bright red The Human League one in to work the next day.

The bands of your youth won’t be around forever. Catch them while you can – who doesn’t want to dance care-free, like they’re 18 again? Even if you do regret it the next day.

This post first appeared as my "A wry look at the week" column, in The Mail, on Friday the 30th of November. The version used on their website added "Don't you want me, baby?" in front of my already-song-title-based heading. 

 Whilst I've managed to get hold of back-copies of the missing print editions, this one hasn't arrived yet... so I'm suspecting it's not coming. Getting hold of yourself in print is surprisingly tricky!

(CD A-Z: The whopping Freddie Mercury "The Solo Collection"... starting off with "Mr Bad Guy".)

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