I LIED TO YOU (But Hereâs Why)...
So last night⌠I went out. Proper out. Out OUT. Live music. 70s vibe rock band. Big hair. Tight trousers. One bloke fully committed to a tambourine like it was his actual lifeâs calling . Sticky floor. Warm beer. Bass thumping in your ribs kinda vibe. And for a second, I was 19 again. Arms in the air. Singing lyrics I didnât fully know but absolutely BELIEVING anyway. The lead singer was giving it EVERYTHING. Sweat. Eye contact. That slightly unhinged rock-face thatâs sexy only when doing rock⌠walking down the street with that face and Iâd be like EEEK mate calm down. The guitarist was doing that lean-back-leg-wide stance like heâd practised it in the mirror since 1987 lol, you know the one, hips forward, life sorted. It was messy. Loud-ish. Defo not polished. And it was ALIVE. And hereâs the thing that totes hit me mid head-bang. Nobody was there because the sound was technically flawless. Nobody was whispering, âOoooh yes, the chord transitions were extremely accurate.â No one gave a flying fig about technical perfection. They were there because the band MEANT IT. They believed what they were playing. They werenât reading off a sheet. They werenât half-arsing it. They werenât thinking, âI hope no one judges my tambourine technique.â They were FULLY IN IT. Chest out. Voice cracked. Zero apology. And the room responded back. It was lit-ness. Proper vibing. Now⌠confession. Ooooppsss. Some of that was slightly made up. Naughty Mimi. I know. Yes. I did go see a 70s rock band⌠(there was no tambourine sadly but let me have the drama okay) The rest? Embellished. Heightened. Turned up a notch for dramatic-ish effect. Because I wanted you to FEEL it. And that right there⌠is the whole darn point. Thatâs storytelling. Thatâs delivery. Thatâs flavour-flave. (And no, I am NOT saying go make up stories, calm ya boots. This is an example-roo.) Because I couldâve said, âI went to watch a band. They were good. It made me think about conviction.â Technically correct too. Emotionally dead. Pfffttt.