Now there’s a few things we have to burn
On October 21st, my fellow comic book nerd friends and I went to see Florence + the Machine at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. As someone who takes every excuse to dress up, I naturally took pains (including some literal ones) to don an outfit inspired by Persephone from the comic The Wicked + the Divine, by Kieron Gillen, Jamie McKelvie, and Matt Wilson.
I didn’t actually own any of the constituent parts, however, so the end result wasn’t all that Persephone but still made my friend, whose favorite character is Persephone, very emotional.
I had taken a shoulder bag with me to hold a jacket in case it were to get cold after dark fell. (Again, I thought we might be on a lawn instead of in a pit.) I do think it hampered my enjoyment of the show a bit, as I like to keep one hand and one corner of my attention on my bag at all times, and the bag felt heavier and heavier over the course of the night. I didn’t need anything in there anyway besides my ticket and my phone. Next concert outfit will feature: pockets.
My other wardrobe not-really-regret was my platform boots, which I’d bought from H&M specifically for this concert and the DIR EN GREY concert in two weeks. I don’t know if the added three inches made a difference, but the shoes were comfortable enough to stand in and would have been no problem if not for the fact that the mouth of the shoes are still stiff and chafed my legs when I walked or rocked or bounced to the music. Walking back to Samir’s car after the concert was fairly awful, and a raw spot on my left leg stung in the shower afterward.
On the other hand, I looked really good, and when I look back on this night, I’m not going to remember the inconvenience of my bag and boots; I’m gonna remember how good I looked. Because I took many, many selfies.
The show was my first at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley, and it was, in fact, a proper Greek theatre, with a pit in the middle and semicircular rows of benches going up the sides. Despite having lined up only half an hour before doors opened, when my friends and I threw ourselves into the pit, we landed about four rows back.
The opener was a sort of retro rock band called The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger.
Then it was time for Florence.
You could tell right away that this was a different sort of show. There was a harp onstage, for one thing. In addition to the harpist, there was a keyboardist, a drummer, a guitarist, two backup singers, and a three-piece brass section that I think sometimes sang backup vocals.
I was ill-prepared for how sweet Florence Welch’s speaking voice would be. She sang powerfully but spoke to us gently between songs. She conducted us as a choir during “Shake It Out”. Someone threw her a hat with a wide brim and pom-poms, which she wore delightedly. She gifted the previous owner a Lungs record in return. For “Third Eye” she asked us to put our phones away and remember with our eyes and ears and each other. She told us she wrote “Cosmic Love” while suffering the worst hangover. Someone in the audience blew bubbles, and she sang to them as they floated by. She kept twirling on the stage, so reminiscent of WicDiv‘s Amaterasu.
She asked us to each take something off as she herself stripped off her blazer. (I took off my belt.) People either waved their clothes in the air or threw their clothing onstage, and she picked them up and threw them into the air. (I did not throw my belt; I like my belt.) One person took off her shirt and threw that, but as she’d evidently bought a shirt from the merch booth, she had a spare to put on, lol.
Concerts I’ve attended have typically been rock concerts in small clubs or other indoor venues. Florence was the biggest artist I’ve ever seen live, but it didn’t feel like it. This was probably due in large part to us being so close to the front of the pit, despite lining up only two hours before show start, along with the fact that there was no moshing. I was so ready to fight, but it was not a fighting show. At one single point during the show, Florence swooped down to the front of the stage, and we all fell in, pushing each other forward, and people wrapped their arms around her, and she looped her own arm around one person’s head and sang “What Kind of Man” into his face, but as soon as she rose, we all fell back to our original positions.
We even hugged! During “Dog Days Are Over”, Florence told us to embrace each other and touch each others’ faces, and I grabbed me some handfuls of friend face, and there was only joy and support and no fighting. It was bizarre to me.
After the first set was done and the band left the stage, we stayed where we were, chanting and screaming, and slowly I noticed around us that people—dozens of people sitting up the sides of the theatre—had turned on the lights on their phones and were waving them in the air.
The band came back out, Florence looking around at the lights and smiling as if in wonder. They gave us a two-song encore, ending with “Drumming Song”. Then they left, the lights came on, and people started moving toward the stage to collect their clothing.