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Reaching for the Lights

It started, as these things do, with the anticipation - the fleeting flutters of excitement, butterflies in my stomach. A quick check of the time - a few hours to go. A light sigh and back to work.

Work over, time to prepare. Flutters of excitement not so fleeting. Wobbly hands, eyeliner a bit more smoky than originally intended - no matter. The day to day cocoon shed.

Another time check - an hour to go. Arrive and wait, the anticipation building. Shifting weight from one foot to the other, time seems to stretch forever.

Movement ahead. It is time - of a sort. Enter and shed the outer layers and baggage. It's important to be able to move freely.

Inside, eyes adjusting to the gloom. More waiting. Positions are being chosen. Like the gold rush, the first settlers have picked their plots and staked their claim. Everyone suddenly has elbows and takes up a lot more space than they will later.

More bodies pour into the room and the anticipation builds further. Hundreds of voices combine to form a dull roar. A scan of the room reveals familiar faces, triggering memories of events past. Pleasantries are exchanged with those nearby, compliments on my t-shirt are accepted with thanks and a grin.

A voice booms out, silencing the roar momentarily before it's back in fuller throat. Sound explodes all around, lights flash and suddenly there's movement. Hundreds of bodies, moving together, ripples going through the crowd pushing people this way and that, like reeds in a strong current. Arms raised, fists punching the air, bodies stretched towards the bright lights. Aches form and are forgotten just as quickly. All too soon the music's over. This was just the initial tease, eyes are bright, blood pulsing through veins, faces around me starting to glow.

The excitement around me is palpable.

Waiting. Breathing. Stretching.

The lights go down and there is a moment of silence as figures bound onto the stage. The crowd surges forward, but it's another tease. They play with us for half an hour, before letting us rest and breathe again.

The crowd are restless, bodies jockey for position, elbows are deployed in controlled bursts. The crowd goes silent one last time before exploding once more. The foreplay is over - this is what we've all been waiting for.

The music reverberates through my bones, filling my head and spilling over into the rest of me. My body, less substantial than it once was is pushed this way and that at the whims of the crowd. Everyone stretches for the light ahead, bodies moving in time. My feet are no longer touching the ground. I cling to the barrier in front of me for dear life, my arm crushed between two bodies. I'm pressed against someone's back and bodies are pushing into me from all sides. Hands are around me, over me, on me - some accidental, some less so and are swiftly dealt with. I strain upwards to gasp for fresh air, lungs bursting, chest constricted by those pushing against me.

I lose track of time, there is only light, music and other people. Hair is everywhere - it gets in my face and gets tangled in my hands. I'm pushed forward and touch bare skin - one of the guys in front has taken off his shirt and I'm pressed against his naked back, his long hair soaked with sweat and as he throws his hair back it blinds me momentarily.

The crowd behind pulls back for a moment, enough for me to see something stuck to his back. I grab it quickly, much to the disgust of the guy next to me who wanted my prize for himself. For a moment I struggle for a safe place to keep it before the solution presents itself.

The crowd reaches fever pitch, the heat is intense and I can't breathe. Those behind push forward, desperate to touch the light, time running out.

Suddenly, and too soon, it's over. The lights are turned up and we're left shaking, breathless and soaked with the sweat of countless unknown bodies. Scavengers hunt around the floor, kicking aside beer cans, eyes searching. Bodies jack-knife, hands reach then slacken. Damn. Chewing gum.

As we climb the stairs, the cool air tastes like heaven. Belongings are collected then it's out into the bright lights and cool night air. The sound of the city is muted by the ringing in our ears and there are few words which need to be said. There is a recognition amongst those waiting for buses home - the same joyous exhaustion etched on their faces.

...

It's the morning after and my body still aches - the memory of last night written large in every aching muscle and flowering bruise. The world is still muted, but less so. Damn, but Skid Row rocked. Hurricane Party and The Ga Ga's did too.

Hitting the Skids

S and I are in full rock-chick mode again. We're off to see Skid Row tonight at Mean Fiddler in London.

With any luck, we won't have concussion in the morning like we did last time we were there.

Dixie Chicked

In something of a departure to previous musical outings, I'm off to the Royal Albert Hall tonight to see the Dixie Chicks.

To be honest, if it hadn't have been for the fact that a) I got the tickets at less than a third of face value and b) they caused such a fuss with their remarks about Dubya I probably wouldn't have bothered.

That said, they got a good write-up in the Evening Standard on Friday and it seems like it could be a bit of a laugh, if for no other reason that I've managed to persaude D to go along with me, and his reaction to it might well be worth the ticket price in itself.

Musical Dilemma

Listen to Norah Jones being played to the room, or listen to Rob Dougan through my headphones.

I can't decide.

Lost my mojo

D and I are watching Eddie Izzard's "The Definite Article" and it's all Kate's fault.

Therefore, the hilariously funny post I was intending to write has been completely and utterly forgotten as I laugh until I hurt at Eddie Izzard.

Sorry 'bout that.

The Soundtrack to My Weekday Life

Okay, so I promised to show you mine - but D beat me to at least part of it.

It's true, he does, on occasion, play Bootylicious by Destiny's Child, and I do, on occasion, shake my uh... booty, while getting dressed in the morning... but you have to understand - I only do it because I'm a good and loving girlfriend, and it amuses him... and an amused D is a happy D, and that means I'm more likely to have a pleasant walk to work.

Other "getting dressed" songs include:

Agent Provocateur - Red Tape
Sugababes - Stronger
Samantha Mumba - Gotta Tell You

Or, when I get control of the playlist:

Foo Fighters - All My Life
Fiona Apple - Paper Bag
Tracy Bonham - Mother Mother
Zero 7 - In The Waiting Line
or anything else that takes my fancy that particular morning.

Then we leave the house, and I walk half the way with D, who then gets on the tube as I continue walking. As I exit Euston Station I'm inserting the little headphones into my ears and selecting that morning's walking music.

At the moment, the songs I tend to choose to play first are (I only have time to get through two full tracks before I get to the office, so there's no real margin of error here):

Pink - Feel Good Time (from the Charlies Angels 2 soundtrack)
Christina Aguilera - Dirrty, Fighter or Beautiful (sorry Karen - I know she looks like a skank most of the time, but I actually kinda like that song and if truth be told, I like the album)
System of a Down - Toxicity or Chop Suey
Papa Roach - Last Resort
Fiona Apple - Slow Like Honey

When I get to work, I either listen to the selection chosen by our resident DJ (or MP3-J) which has ranged from Avril Lavigne, Ash, Green Day, The Carpenters, Justin Timberlake and the Stereophonics to all manner of things I don't recognise or can't remember.

If I really need to concentrate, I put my headphones on, and at the moment, I can't stop listening to Fallen by Evanescence. Before that it was Silver Side Up by Nickleback.

Lunchtime music is dependent on what's played in the pub, if we go there for lunch, or nothing at all if we go to the staff "Restaurant".

Afternoon music is more of the same as the morning.

Walking home I'm usually accompanied as far as Euston Station again, but the walk from Euston home is slightly longer, so there's more of a selection, so I will generally start listening to a different sequence of music from the minidisc. Currently it's Sinch's self titled album which gets most listening, unless I'm having a Christina phase and work my way through the three Christina tracks, the two System of a Down tracks and then go through the slightly mellower Bother by Stone Sour before getting all upbeat again with Pink.

In the evening, my music tastes very much depend on my mood, and what's been on my stereo lately has been Zero 7's Simple Things, The Reindeer Section's Son of Evil Reindeer and the Avril Lavigne album (yes, I know it's drivel. I still like it)... unless I'm feeling particularly annoying, in which case I'll turn on the TV and switch to the Kerrang music channel and just let it go where it pleases... up until the point where D wrestles me for control of the remote control.

I used to like to listen to one of those new age-y ambient CD's of the sound of waves crashing on a beach to help me fall asleep, but D hates it and refuses to let me listen to it any more, so the only music I hear as I drift off to sleep is his breathing, and the odd burp or fart.

Soundtrack for Life

So... every so often, as I'm getting dressed in the morning, D will play a certain track from his vast and varied playlist.

It's become a sort of "theme song", if you will. If my life were a movie, that's the music that would play at that point in the soundtrack.

I have other themes, for other times - the walk to work, for example - but it just got me to wondering... is it just me that has a soundtrack for my life?

So here's the thing - do you have certain music (or certain types of music) that you play/listen to for certain situations... and if so, what?

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours!

A wish made real

A couple of months ago, my friend Sharon and I fulfilled a long held dream for me.

Ever since I was about 13, I'd wanted to see Queensryche in concert - and finally, 13 years later, I got to be there.

We were right in the front row, next to one of the speaker stacks and it was absolutely fantastic.

Tonight I was just reading through metafilter before going to bed, when I came across this story.

I'm so glad I read this. It's really nice to know that sometimes people do nice things, just because.

I'm going to stop being mushy and go to bed now.

Oh, the shame...

We have a sort of jukebox system in the office. Or at least, one person has a PC with speakers and plays music at a low enough volume for us to work and take calls, but enough that we can all hear it.

The music selection over the last two weeks has been pretty good and pretty varied too.

That's not really the problem though. The problem is that I just realised I was tapping my foot to Justin Timberlake's album.

Oh the shame!