(the only kind that i relate to)

I can't get last thursday night out of my head. I made myself and Robbeh some cheese sandwiches and we headed over to Porchester Hall in the early evening. Robbeh is a pro at queueing, i believe it's standard procedure in Britain, especially for gigs. i was going to avoid the waiting around bit, but then i thought it would be funner to do the queue thing and go with Robbeh, than not go and then probably get lost trying to find my way to Porchester Hall by myself and miss Arcade Fire.

We get there and our queueing presence fucks with the bouncer's head. (Though, since it's Porchester Hall, and he was really nice, let's say he was the doorman.) He couldn't quite grasp the idea that we'd come a couple of hours early, and told us to go away to the pub for a while and come back. But we were determinded to hang about. So we did. Richard Reed Perry wandered by, and asked "how's life?" He is smiling beautifically, and it's hard not to smile beautifically back. Life is good when in possession of a ticket to an Arcade Fire show that's on later Richard! I give dirty looks to two fat middle aged men who look like touts. (Later i see them up the front bopping around and enjoying themselves tremendously. Could it be?)

The doorman felt a bit sorry for us, and when the waiting crowd grew to a respectably troublesome size, he made arrangements for us to be let inside to wait in a warm and cosy room. How nice is that, seriously. Robbeh's friend Sarah arrived with CHIPS, which might have been a bit much what with the cheese sandwiches we'd already had, but waiting around for Arcade Fire is a very energy-expending exercise. Yes. While we were sitting on the floor in that room we heard the thrums and yodels of the soundcheck. We weren't just sitting there, we were also guarding the doorman's lunch, and keeping stupid americans away from the chairs. Don't ask. Ok do, it's a funny story and involves the line "oh, are you the boss of the chairs?!!?!!?" or something. It's nearly time for the doors to open, and so many people are in the room now that it's very hard to discern any kind of line. Our man Pete was on hand to get everyone in order. "I hate when things aren't organised properly!" Pete said. People congratulated Pete's line ordering skills, and soon after the doors OPEN!

i tried really hard not to run up the stairs like mad and dash into the hall, like a greedy kid running after...running cake. but i totally did. i even ran by the free badges. (oh well, i got better ones at work last week!) so, up the front we are. people are trying to squish themselves anywhere to get in the very front row. Wow. It's an incredible spot. Because the crowd is so well behaved, and noone bashes into me, it's like i'm standing there gobsmacked by Arcade Fire all by myself, but i'm not the only one of course. Win says how nice it is to have a few days to spend in London. That he hated it before, but doesn't anymore. The set list goes to shit because of the heckling from the audience. If you are clever enough to have a ticket to see Arcade Fire, don't shout orders at them. Just let them play! Whatever they have decided on is going to be more magical than you can ever imagine anyway. Leave them alone!

For some reason I thought Win Butler was going to look a bit like Jack White. But he doesn't. He is Win Butler from his giant feet, to his braces and sweaty shirt and big brown eyes. And Regine is Peaches' long lost twin sister if ever I saw one. (Gem fingerless gloves?) Richard definitely brings the suspense element to the show. First of all, he picks the most difficult "picking up" instruments to play and you can only just about bear to look in those moments when he's running from double bass to accordian and he's throwing one instrument down and galloping over to the other one and HE JUST MAKES IT IN TIME. Always. And he even has time to do a little jig, or sing and laugh at the same time aswell. Heck.

So! Bloody hell I can't wait til they come and play in Berlin in March.