On Thursday I finish work and I skip the gym and I catch the tube and I go to Hammersmith. At Hammersmith station I go to Tesco and I buy smoked salmon and cherry tomatoes, which I eat sitting on a bench just outside, next to a Muslim woman in headscarf and black robes covering her whole face/body to stop men from lusting over her, which I find very presumptuous on her part anyway.
Then I walk to Hammersmith Apollo, join the queue, get to the door, show my ticket, have my bag searched, get told that I’m not allowed to take my water bottle in with me, put the water bottle in a big plastic bag, pick up my water bottle from the big plastic bag when the security guy turns his head, go in, sit and wait for a bit, watch Bjork play a concert.
Last time I saw Bjork play a concert was in 1995. This was also my first concert ever.
This time, 13 years later, we still fucking like Bjork. I’m not good at describing positive experiences, so I won’t even try, but during the gig I:
- Do not get bored much
- Try to make myself cry during Army Of Me; cry for the person I was when I first heard it 13 years ago and cry for the person I am now
- Fail to cry
- Shout the words to Hyperballad back to Bjork when Bjork wants me to
- Consider that I love Bjork. Realise that I can’t actually love (or hate) a person I don’t know, think of the people that hate (or love) me from reading my blog, settle that I love what Bjork produces for consumption from a wider audience and assign this feeling to her actual person, conclude that people love or hate me for what I produce for a wider audience and assign these feelings to my actual person
- Think of the supermarket I did my food shopping in when I was in Reykjavik and try to picture Bjork in there (chances are she must have been there at some point)
- Wonder if Bjork is nervous at all standing there in front of all those people
- Make sure the people either side of me can see when I’m mouthing the lyrics
- Make sure the people either side of me cannot see when I’m not mouthing the lyrics (when I don’t know them)
- Receive a text from Scott asking if Bjork is screamy / reply yes
- Hate the fact that some people start leaving before the end when they realize it’s the last song “to avoid the crowds”
Then Bjork finishes singing Declare Independence and I leave the Hammersmith Apollo with a few thousand other people, we walk to the tube, we get on the train, I take my iPod out, put Pagan Poetry by Bjork on, leave it out long enough for people around me to notice I haven’t had enough, listen to Pagan Poetry a few times, get home.
Finally, Scott once saw Bjork walking around in Camden and he went up to her and said, you are Bjork aren't you, to which Bjork said, no I'm not, to which Scott said, yes you are, you are Bjork. I would never, ever walk up and talk to a celebrity.