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| Fuelset_T |
 Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 5:13 am |
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Joined: 06 Apr 2010
Posts: 5
Location: New Zealand
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I hope you cats don't mind a badly written novella 
Imagine it.
A group of like-minded but otherwise different individuals.
All come together as a group of individuals to celebrate a single individual.
And the music that comes from said individual.
We were all so different and still we came together…I couldn’t be less surprised.
I found out about Imogen’s long awaited to our wee white cloud via a facebook post. It wasn’t even Her’s. I’d lost faith. I’d given up on ever seeing Ms. Heap in New Zealand. Its ok, I have that sort of luck.
On the way to work in ‘98ish, on a now defunct radio station I hear a voice singing clearly through my walls and barriers against the world. ‘Come Here Boy’ was the message and it was received loud and clearly. I heard this song the day after She left, and I was broken. I searched high and low and found a name…Imogen Heap. I’ve always loved that name…Imogen. My first kindergarten crush had that name. It’s crazy what comes back to you.
It only took a few weeks to find Her album, and I was reassembled.
iMegaphone was a part of the procedure, a conduit veering towards a place where my fragile emotions could be healed. Listening only made me more disappointed to have missed the show. I knew she’d be important to music. I didn’t know it’d be 12 years before she returned.
Within a day of reading Allie’s post about Immi’s imminent return to our fair shores, a ticket was in my inbox. Call me Charlie Bucket cause I’ve got my winning ticket!
Friday March 19th. The day just dragged on. I’d tried to do what I could to not get too excited. So much about how I look at music and think about music comes from listening to Imogen Heap. This tends to be so much stranger when you know I’m playing Bass in a Heavy Metal band.
Dinner with Anna was my first port of call. Chicken Laksa to start the evening wasn’t a shabby idea. We made our way to Parnell with what we thought was plenty of time…until I saw the size of the line…and Immi on stage. My first thought was, “f*%@! She’s already on!!”, followed by the potential for a panic attack.
No.
The universe wouldn’t do that to me. More importantly, the universe would do that to Imogen Heap.
With my newly instilled sense of calm we made our way through the line and into the venue. There was an anticipation riding through the room with a barely controllable shuffle. Before me was a midget in a suit. Beside him was some chick in a red singlet dress thing straight out of Beck’s Sex Laws, and next to her a fresh faced child enjoying her newly acquired freedom of entering bars and drinking booze. She was her to join us in our anticipation.
The opening acts were nice. They were fun. Neither were really my thing but they did what they did well, and their only failing was that they weren’t the object of my fascination…but damn if those boys didn’t warm that room up.
When Imogen Heap walked out onto that stage the world burst apart. I could physically feel the joy erupt from everyone around me.
I read the review of Her Sydney show following ours (http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/23123/Imogen-Heap--Metro-Theatre-Sydney-220310.htm )and the author picked up on it all. The majesty. The splendour. The silence between songs. We were all here for the art.
I’d waited for this gig for so long I almost expected to be disappointed…almost. But I wasn’t. How could I be?
I didn’t hear anything from my iMegaphone and that was ok.
I heard music I wasn’t familiar with and I loved it.
The sound washed through me and dragged me closer to the stage. I brushed past my brother to get closer. I got out of my sister’s way so she could get a drink. I made a gap so my sister could get closer…she’s a little short. These people were my family for that short time. Beside me Allie captured a song on her phone…bless her.
All the wonder came back to me…I was breathless and amazed I was really there. In fact, I wasn’t sure I was…how could this really be happeneing? There’s such power and grace in Her music. Imogen’s voice is like swimming on a warm day, like riding in the car with your hand out the window. It’s every sense being awoken by that single event.
The first time I heard her voice ever I cried. This time it was all I could do to hold back. My family understood.
The evening continued on with more intense musical pleasure and I thought my night’s highlight had been reached. I thought Immi had returned to her hotel.
So it was to my surprise that while talking about how great the night was, Michelle cried out, “Oh my god! Its her! SHE’S STILL HERE!”, after which we all charged back to the stage where She was taking photo’s with other hang-abouts. I lined up for mine…Mish got her’s, and me…?
I got a hug and a photo…and I could barely talk. It took every ounce of energy I had left to not just blubber. Of everything I wanted to tell Her, all I was able to really get out to that softly spoken Gem was thank you. She’d awakened in me a love of music I’d forgotten. She inspired me and moved me in a way that I can’t attribute to anyone or anything else.
She is NOT the cat’s mother.
She is Imogen Heap. And She is simply one great musician and a beautiful person. |
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Immi's music gets me every time... |
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| DavidB |
| Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 3:39 pm |
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Joined: 02 Jul 2009
Posts: 1202
Location: London
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| I'm jealous. Can we see the photo? |
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| Fuelset_T |
| Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 11:56 pm |
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Joined: 06 Apr 2010
Posts: 5
Location: New Zealand
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you most certainly can...as soon as i can get it off my phone.
i'm gonna see if i can get pics off my friends who were there.
i hope Immi comes back...i miss her already |
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Immi's music gets me every time... |
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