6.10.15, Florence + the Machine concert
*slow music* *Florence’s sultry voice*
Him (to H and myself): Do you know what song this is?
H: *shakes head*
Me: What Kind of Man. Wait for it. It’ll pick up in a second.
*lights flash* *music cranks up by 1000 decibles*
Him: *shouts* Oh, yes. Great song! The slow beginning threw me.
We all jumped and jived and felt the drumbeats in our chests. Noticing I was a receptive audience, we chatted about the show, guessed which songs would be next, and high-fived as the house lights came on. He surprised me because with all the extra time H and I had had (we arrived right as the doors opened), I’d studied the crowd’s (predominantly female) dynamics. Most males there were with a female significant other and while this guy was with a girl, they appeared to be friends, and it didn’t seem as if he’d been coerced into attending. In fact, he was taking notes on the set list. No one in the room had more enthusiasm than Florence, but this kid was close.
I’m relatively new to the Florence + the Machine fandom (about 2 years in), so I’m happy to learn they have such delightful fans.
On another note, I’ve never been to a concert like that or seen a performer like her. Florence was a powerhouse, but also delicate. Athletic. Ethereal. Energetic. Angelic. Booming. Commanding. Deliberate. She laughed and broke our hearts with her honesty. She floated and twirled around the stage and then charged across it. She was one thing and then she was another, but her voice never wavered or sounded anything less than flawless.
I wore goosebumps the whole time.
Abigail Mumford 