I'd been awaiting last Sunday evening with interest, if not anticipation. Having never heard of John Mayall before I wasn't sure quite what to expect. And I still wasn't sure when we arrived at the concert venue in Oviedo as it was full of people of all ages, sizes and dress senses.
Having been fortified with a Rioja from the posh bar we made our way to the auditorium, passing John Mayall himself on the way signing autographs and selling CDs - 'well, at least he's eager', I thought. I noticed a greatly-pleased man who had just bought a CD and also got his T-shirt signed. Said item of clothing was printed with 'classic' album covers - I noted Pink Floyd's 'The Dark Side of The Moon' above the signed John Mayall cover and in true High Fidelity style decided that was all I needed to know about the man. (I have a slight problem with Pink Floyd. For some reason or other, many of my boyfriends across the years have had a P.F. obsession - Matt included - and their albums have been played to death for my 'benefit', despite much protest on my part.)
Being seated at a concert for me is a bad start. My natural concert habitat is a dark smoky room with a bar in the corner, where I can stand, beer in hand, and observe the band. I prefer to have full dancing options too, ranging from toe-tapping to a jump-up-and-down-in-the-middle-of-the-crowd frenzy (although I can't quite remember the last time I did the latter). So it was with a little resignation that, having checked that there was indeed no bar in the auditorium, I settled myself into my seat to await the music.
We had the Bluesbreakers on first to warm up the crowd before they introduced the 'Father of British Blues' and then on came John Mayall, who despite being in his seventies had the demeanour, and body, of a much younger man. 'This is what doing something you love as a profession will do for you', I decided and sat back to see what would happen next. It was round this point that I noticed I had the concert's most-enthusiastic goer right in front of me. A 30-odd year old woman who couldn't stop jiggling in her seat and clapping to the music with her arms in the air - obviously the blues's version of a mosher. Now this was entertainment. I wasn't hugely enamoured with the music - although they were all obviously highly-talented musicians - but put them together with the crowd and we had something worth watching.
A quick glance down my row two or three songs into the performance and I realised that I had found a more fervent admirer than jjiggly-woman. It was, in fact, T-shirt man from the autograph signing. At the end of every song he would half stand up, arms raised in the air, and give those on stage a big thumbs up with both hands whilst grinning and cheering madly. He was obviously having the time of his life and I felt slightly guilty for my lack of enthusiasm, although I was pleased to have found some more entertainment.
The rest of the night proceeded in similar fashion, with two encores at the end. After a pleasant dinner in nearby cafe and a couple more glasses of Rioja, we made our way home. I can't say I'd be tempted to see John Mayall in concert again, although if knew T-shirt man would be there too I might say yes.
Having been fortified with a Rioja from the posh bar we made our way to the auditorium, passing John Mayall himself on the way signing autographs and selling CDs - 'well, at least he's eager', I thought. I noticed a greatly-pleased man who had just bought a CD and also got his T-shirt signed. Said item of clothing was printed with 'classic' album covers - I noted Pink Floyd's 'The Dark Side of The Moon' above the signed John Mayall cover and in true High Fidelity style decided that was all I needed to know about the man. (I have a slight problem with Pink Floyd. For some reason or other, many of my boyfriends across the years have had a P.F. obsession - Matt included - and their albums have been played to death for my 'benefit', despite much protest on my part.)
Being seated at a concert for me is a bad start. My natural concert habitat is a dark smoky room with a bar in the corner, where I can stand, beer in hand, and observe the band. I prefer to have full dancing options too, ranging from toe-tapping to a jump-up-and-down-in-the-middle-of-the-crowd frenzy (although I can't quite remember the last time I did the latter). So it was with a little resignation that, having checked that there was indeed no bar in the auditorium, I settled myself into my seat to await the music.
We had the Bluesbreakers on first to warm up the crowd before they introduced the 'Father of British Blues' and then on came John Mayall, who despite being in his seventies had the demeanour, and body, of a much younger man. 'This is what doing something you love as a profession will do for you', I decided and sat back to see what would happen next. It was round this point that I noticed I had the concert's most-enthusiastic goer right in front of me. A 30-odd year old woman who couldn't stop jiggling in her seat and clapping to the music with her arms in the air - obviously the blues's version of a mosher. Now this was entertainment. I wasn't hugely enamoured with the music - although they were all obviously highly-talented musicians - but put them together with the crowd and we had something worth watching.
A quick glance down my row two or three songs into the performance and I realised that I had found a more fervent admirer than jjiggly-woman. It was, in fact, T-shirt man from the autograph signing. At the end of every song he would half stand up, arms raised in the air, and give those on stage a big thumbs up with both hands whilst grinning and cheering madly. He was obviously having the time of his life and I felt slightly guilty for my lack of enthusiasm, although I was pleased to have found some more entertainment.
The rest of the night proceeded in similar fashion, with two encores at the end. After a pleasant dinner in nearby cafe and a couple more glasses of Rioja, we made our way home. I can't say I'd be tempted to see John Mayall in concert again, although if knew T-shirt man would be there too I might say yes.
4 comments:
Maybe you should have had more than just one glass of rioja before the start of the concert. I must say I feel a real old git as I know nothing about this type of music.
How are you doing with the courgettes and runner beans? Have you got a runner bean Elbi's size yet? Any more adventurous ideas what to do with over-sized courgettes?!
Did Matt enjoy the concert? Have you managed to knock Woody Allen's head off yet?
More glasses of wine may have done the trick, although i probably would´ve needed the loo in the middle of the concert and I always hate having to get up from the middle of a row of seats and making everyone else on the way get up too - another advantage to an all-standing concert.
We have lots of runner beans this year that are as long as Elbi - but not as fat. They´re growing long but not getting knobbly for some reason, which means we have even more to eat. I picked a carrier bag full yeasterday and we froze them all. There´ll be plenty more in a couple of days.
As for courgettes we still have the one in the photo to eat. We´re planning a stir fry tonight (w/ginger, chili, honey & soy sauce) which will hopefully use up most of it. There are several more little ones on the way, but no marrows yet. This is my challenge for the summer - avoid marrows. Although I´m sure I´ll find some hiding under leaves at some point.
Matt enjoyed the concert - he told me to shush as several points - mostly when I ws trying to make amusing comment - so he could conentrate!
And Woody still has his head. I don´t think we have any tools at our disposal that would help us get it off, unfortunately. I´ll let you know if the situation changes.
Wow. I chose your blog for playing "blog tag" - I found you by linking to one of my interests in my profile. Now you're it, and if you will play along, just leave a comment on my blog (see last post for instructions) and tag seven more people.
John Mayall. My older stepbrother had about 10 of his albums when I was a teenager stored at our house, and I "borrowed" them and scratched them all up with my five-and-dime record player. But I love him! And haven't heard anything about him for 20 years! What a coincidence!
Good for people to know.
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