Thursday, 19 December 2013

2013 - What You Couldn't Have Told Me


I googled '2013 music' and this appeared. I can't control these things.


If You'd Said...
by Jo Michelmore


If you’d said to me in January that I’d be sitting at my laptop less than a week before Christmas in December, listening to one of my new favourite bands of the year and writing my bazillionth (I never exaggerate) blog post for the year, I might have thought you were crazy. I probably would have believed you, but I still would have thought you were crazy. Don’t take it personally; I think a lot of people are crazy. I have proof: that Norwegian song 'The Fox (What Does The Fox Say)' was popular for a minute there. Anyway, I like most crazy people (hello Kanye) and if you’re crazy enough to be reading what I’ve written, chances are I like you too. I like you even more because you’re reading a blog all (generally) about music and music is amazing, but you already know I think that. How amazing is it? Well, this year, 2013, music made all of this…




If you’d said to me in January that I’d get tickets to a sold out Emma Louise gig about an hour or so before it started, that I’d sit next to a very large man (no, not Matt, he was on the other side) and discuss keyboardists with him, I'd have said you were crazy. If you’d said I’d see Sarah Blasko from a box seat, in the grandiose Concert Hall and if you'd said I’d probably shed a tear at the sounds of a symphony orchestra playing ‘Cast The Net’ and then, if memory serves me correctly, I'd do a couple hours of karaoke afterwards, I’d have believed you. What else would one do after such an emotional event?




If you’d said I’d dance and bounce for hours with a bunch of fabulous friends to The Presets, followed by some bizarre conversations with fellow drunken Presets fans...and then watched my friend lying about a gutter (fabulously attractively, of course) I’d have believed you. That kind of thing happens all the time. If you’d said I’d review that gig for this here blog and a quote from my review would be used months later to promote another Presets gig, I’d have thought you were crazy. I may also have squealed, a little. Or a lot. It was a lot.




If you’d said I would see one of my musical idols from the very front row, after a day of sun and dust and bad toilets and fattening food and warm diet coke and smelly, poorly dressed people as well as eight hours of bands I had little interest in, I’d have thought you were crazy. If you told me I'd hang out with K-Tizz and find the whole event hilarious and put up with it all for Shirley Manson and Garbage, I’d have believed you. I love Garbage. Duh. If you’d said I’d see The xx and probably lose some valuable hearing from the incredible bass sounds as I stood in front of the amps, I might not have heard you…and I might have thought you were crazy. If you’d told me I’d get to share the experience and see the reactions of my beautiful friends who adore The xx, I would have believed you, because sharing music with friends is one of the best things ever.




If you said I’d climb those stairs of the Black Bear a hundred times, get frisked at the door of X&Y, put up with the heat all year round at The Zoo, peered over peoples shoulders at The Hideaway, tripped up and down the stairs at the Hi Fi, stood almost alone in The Press Club, got squished at Electric Playground, danced at Oh Hello, finally got to the Northcote Social Club, travelled across the world and gone to a club in the daylight and left at sunset; all of these things to see so many amazing bands….if you said all of those things, I’d have believed you. I love live music. I'd go anywhere for it. If you told me the names of who I'd see, I'd think you were crazy for not being there with me.




If you’d told me how much music I’d discover this year, I’d have thought you were crazy. If you told me how much I’d come to love so many new bands, I’d have believed you. A love of music is unending. Just when you don’t think you can love anymore another song comes along to make you smile or send shivers down your spine and somehow there’s so much room for new love. If you'd told me how much I'd come to rely on new lyrics and new sounds to get me through the days, I'd have believed you. Music has always been what gets me through the day. Everyday it reminds me to do exactly what MTNS told me to do; "Put your feet back on the ground and just start walking..."




If you’d told me all that, I would have loved it all. But what you couldn’t possibly have told me was this. You couldn’t have told me how absolutely full of fun and adventure and love my life could become, when I lived a lifelong dream by going to Eurovision. You couldn’t have told me how much my face would hurt from smiling as I sat in an arena in Sweden and watched so much music, so much glitter, so many fireworks and had so much fun. You couldn’t have told me what it would be like to visit a bunch of countries I never dreamed I’d see, meet a bunch of people I never dreamed I’d meet, drink a bunch of beers I never dreamed I’d drink and you couldn’t have told me how much I’d love sharing all of that with one of my best friends in the entire world. Music is amazing, because music made that happen.




What you couldn’t have told me is what it would be like to stand in a building almost a hundred years old, in the very front row, drinking beer and lemonade and waiting for hours to experience a performance from a musician I idolise; Amanda Palmer, who made me laugh, who made me cry, who made me sing and who held my hand and danced, sung and smiled at me for a minute or so there. You couldn’t have told me how it would feel to have a moment like that, one that makes me smile and one I will always remember and you could never have told me how it felt to be able to know I shared that with one of my best friends in the entire world. Music is amazing, because music made that happen.




What you couldn’t have told me is how many times I’d laugh, how many times I’d sigh, how many times I’d smile, how many times I'd cry at all the things being a blog writer brings. What you couldn’t have told me is how I’d feel at reading the words of bands and musicians who write to say thanks for listening and sharing, how it feels to know some of your favourite performers have read your words, answered your questions and then shared them with their worlds. That is the best.




But most of all, what you couldn’t have told me is just how much I have come to love writing on this here blog about something I can’t live without, with a bunch of people I don't want to live without, who I admire and adore. That is something like music itself, which is indescribable and amazing and you know what else? It's our blog and it's our party, we can do what we want. Yeah, I just did that.


2013, you've been fab. With your ups, with your downs, with everything in between; it's been #fuckingamazing.

1 comment:

Love it or hate it? Agree or disagree? Let me know what you think!