Monday night, Phil and I went to see The Civil Wars in concert. Most of you know that I have been awaiting this date for quite a long time, since I bought my tickets in October as a birthday present to myself. I actually bought the concert tickets long before I bought my plane tickets, so I was definitely willing to take the risk that my plans would all work out in the end.
I'll give you a little bit of background info as to how I ultimately learned of this heavenly duo. On a random day last summer, I was channel surfing and landed on VH1's top 20 countdown. The video for the group's debut single, "Barton Hollow," started playing as soon as I put the remote down. It simply piqued my curiosity, so I watched the entire video, and decided to investigate further. I went to Amazon.com (WAY better than iTunes) and searched the album...I listened to the samples and decided to buy the album on a whim. That was one of the best decisions of my entire life (seriously--no hyperbole intended!) I've been hooked ever since. I became an instant stalker fan and checked out the band's website and added them to my list of "likes" on Facebook, and as soon as I saw the pre-sale come up for the UK tour, I jumped on the chance to see them live. Aannyyway...
I had to meet Phil after he finished work at 4:30, and I kind of felt like there would already be a line of people waiting to get in at that point, since the doors opened at 7:00. Fortunately for us, we arrived at the O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire to discover only 4 people sitting on the steps. Yessss! We were right in the front -- and I had floor tickets. Epic win.
We bide our time as the beggars stroll past, asking all of us for spare change, which we denied them. My accent became a conversation starter as one guy in front of us began to ask me where I was from and how I got here. From that point, our time was officially occupied by the four lovely people already waiting on the steps when we arrived. We had some laughs and some fun conversation, and as 7:00 approached, we saw the workers inside the venue prepare the doors for opening. We devised a plan to get to the front as quickly as possible since there was a rather large queue for the Stalls Standing area. I had a very swollen ankle from a clumsy incident the previous morning, so Phil decided he'd run on ahead and would save my spot since I was mildly handicapped. Needless to say, Phil made good on his promise. Our little group was able to snag the spots front and center, right up against the barrier.
The opening group, Matthew and the Atlas (I think) made their way to the stage just after 8:00. They were American, and were seriously invested in their music, but the few songs they managed to sing were sort of monotonous and mundane....and they all kind of sounded alike. I suppose everyone has to start somewhere, and they were a nice, 3-person group with a guitar, banjo, and violin, but they just weren't exciting.
FINALLY, Joy and John Paul emerge on stage. Joy is tiny, 6 months pregnant, and was sporting 4-inch strappy heels. John Paul has a great sense of humor. He kept asking us if we wanted to hear them play Iron Maiden...silly JP.
From the second they started their set, the chemistry was obvious. Their voices melodiously and harmoniously join together to create a sound that can only be described as music. The feeling I got when I heard them live could easily be compared to the feeling I get when I listen to Gregorian chants: complete serenity, like all is right in the world. They have this natural ability to play off each other...they don't even cue one another when they pause; they just KNOW when to start again. It's an insanely beautiful sight.
One of our new friends, Sam, asked if we were going to wait outside after the concert to try and get autographs. I haven't attended enough concerts to really know that was a possibility, and since the event ended just after 10:30, we thought we'd give it a go. Mind you, it was fuh-reezing outside, but it could potentially be worth it. One girl in our group managed to find a couple of discarded tickets on the floor inside, and gave me one so I could have it signed (all I had were my computer print-outs that had the barcodes torn off from entry.) I stopped to buy a t-shirt on the way out, of course.
At first, there were between 20-30 people waiting, but as it got later, and colder, and more beggars came around, that number dwindled to about 11. Public transportation here stops just after midnight, so some people had to leave because they wouldn't have a way home. Around 11:45, the pair finally exited the building, having already endured an after-show Meet & Greet and changed clothes. They were so nice, and signed autographs for us, and actually apologized to us for making us wait. Ultimately, it was worth enduring the dropping temps.
Phil and I were able to catch one of the last trains home, and made it there just after 1 a.m. I was still wound up from the exhilaration of having just watched one of my favorite bands LIVE...IN LONDON, so it was near 2:30 a.m. before I was able to sleep. My ankle was swollen and my legs were in pain from standing for nearly 6 hours straight, but it was a wonderful night. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
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