My first gig in over eighteen months thanks to a little thing called Covid-19. The security man ushering the queue outside the venue reminded us to scan the track and trace sign so we could get ten days off work afterwards. He was being funny but with the infection rates in GG&C being so high, he may not have been far off the truth (I'll know in a couple of days).
A brief wave of a security wand in lieu of a frisk and we move up to get our tickets scanned. This is my first time using the Ticketmaster app ("your mobile is your ticket") and I'm nervous. I've pre-loaded the tickets ready to be scanned but then my screen times out. I reenter my passcode and, instead of seeing a lovely QR code, I get the buffering symbol. Panic! I'm at the front of the queue. I hastily reload the app, tap into my account, press the event and, fortunately, the ticket screen loads. Beep, beep and effing beep. I stop swearing internally and we are allowed in. (I'm not impressed by this paperless system in case you haven't guessed).
Inside, not everyone is wearing a mask. I can see their logic. They have drinks so would need to remove them as if at a bar. They will be dancing and you don't need to wear a mask on a nightclub dancefloor (because everyone knows Covid is a wallflower). I still wear mine. It feels uncomfortable and is warm around my mouth, making my glasses steam up. During the gig, singing feels inhibited as the fabric presses against my face. I keep it on "to be safe" but I'm not sure it was necessary given my LFD is negative and my mask only protects others from me, not vice versa.
There were quite a few gaps in the crowd despite only a few tickets being left to buy on Ticketmaster, perhaps another consequence of the pandemic. I reckon some have kept away due to fear of infection, with the knock-on effect of being unable to resell their tickets due to a not-sold-out gig. Perhaps some unused seats are due to those isolating and therefore unable to attend.
But what of the gig?
Support act, Josef Salvat, a 32-year-old Australian singer-songwriter, walked confidently onto the stage with his two bandmates and performed adequately. He sings what I would describe as pleasant Euro-pop but, to me, he came across like a contestant on the X-Factor who had a good voice but didn't have the magic to propel them beyond the knock out stages. Forgettable.
A giant curtain blocked off the majority of the stage. Paloma came on in front of it with a couple of her bandmates at 8.45pm and sang her first number then chatted to bring us up to date with what has been happening in her life since the last tour: the devastation the pandemic brought to all our lives, particularly in her industry; the birth of her second child; and the release of her fifth album that only sold about five copies despite her thinking it is her best work ever. She missed playing live and was nervous about coming back after such a long gap but she loves it so much.
The curtain dropped during the next number to reveal the rest of her band, a tight five-piece with two backing singers. No room (or money) this time around for her brass section. It's a smaller venue than the Hydro, which she played last time, but she still has the performing chops to carry the smaller crowd. I was glad we had tickets in the stalls as it gave the gig a more intimate feel. For once the bouncers were more relaxed about people using the aisles to dance and Paloma praised them for allowing her audience to party. The gig had a feel-good vibe. She played a mix of old and new plus a few covers. It was great to be there.
There are always some people that stand out at these gigs and tonight was no exception: first of all, sitting in the front row (of course), was the tall, bean-pole drag queen in a tatty blonde wig who, from the off, kept rising to his feet waving his arms and dancing like a rigid forecourt inflatable. He was initially asked by security to remain seated but Paloma insisted the audience should be on their feet dancing so they relented. Quite a character.
Then, behind me, there were the sweet teens with their parents. Before the gig, the girls insisted on recreating the family picture they took at their last Paloma Faith gig so they could post a 2018/2021 comparison photo on whatever social media platform they use. During the concert, the girls knew every lyric and sang in tune, albeit at a higher pitch than Paloma. It was like listening to audio subtitles. At first, it was lovely hearing them, their enthusiasm growing in volume as the gig progressed. Then it started to grate. I was here to hear Paloma not a night of teen cover versions. When their father started talking loudly during a quieter number it felt like I was with them in their living room watching a Gogglebox live stream while they had a family chat. I turned and scowled (as did the bloke on my right). It made no difference. It was only when Paloma moved onto upbeat disco mode, the conversation ended. This time the music drowned the girls out.
Then there was the odd couple in front of us. They were maybe in their late 30s. She was taller than me with long blonde hair. He was short and bald with glasses. She downed multiple plastic glasses of wine, while he stuck to his double pints (on repeated occasions). She wanted to dance. He wanted to sit and drink his pint. She spotted a couple of tall gay blokes dancing further along the aisle and insisted on joining their party. They exited the row to dance in the aisle to get away from her but she followed them like she was connected by bendy elastic. Her bloke left, exiting in the other direction. When the song ended, the dancing crowd returned to their seats and the blonde didn't know where her partner had gone. She looked around. No sign. She checked her phone. No message. I could see the dull panic in her inebriated eyes as the consequences of her action soaked in. Or perhaps she was thinking how am I going to get home? She still swayed to the music but her eyes panned around looking for him. When he did eventually return with another two pints, she gave him a massive hug and celebrated like her number had been called at a raffle. The party continued until she needed to sit down, having not paced herself to last the entire gig.
Afterwards, around 10.30pm, we exited the venue. Outside, the heavens had opened. Finally, after a balmy, extended dry summer, the normal Glasgow weather had returned. Business as usual, like me going to a gig.
Only I was out of practice. I hadn't brought a coat, or an umbrella, and had bought a programme. Somehow it survived the walk back to the car, though my shirt was soaked through.
Setlist
Gold
Crybaby
Do You Want the Truth or Something Beautiful?
Infinite Things
Guilty
Beautiful & Damned
Stone Cold Sober / Stargazer / 30 Minute Love Affair / Upside Down
Picking Up the Pieces
Monster
Can't Rely on You
I'm Every Woman (Chaka Khan cover)
Changing (Sigma cover)
If This Is Goodbye
Encore:
Better Than This
Lullaby (Sigala cover)
