Warning: This post contains an image of a keyboard swearing. Just in case you’re uncomfortable with bad language, or want to run and hide because I’m a strange person who adds speech bubbles to keyboards…
On July the 11th I went to see Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra perform live in Manchester. As this was over a month ago, it feels too late to review the gig itself, so instead I’m going to give you all a lovely and unthreatening post on why you should go see Amanda Palmer perform live. Which means it will not involve ransom notes like this:
I said NOT, so I am NOT to blame for any loss of cutlery. Honestly…
Now I’m going to stop bombarding you with terribly done fake criminal persuasive devices and get on with the blog entry.
Support acts. Multiple. Something that can fill even the most-patient gig-goer with dread. I’m sure we’ve all been there, standing up for hours on end and knowing that at least one of the acts your going to see will probably be disappointing. But at Amanda Palmer gigs that is not the case. She has some of the most creative, entertaining support acts I have ever seen. This time she had Jherek Bischoff, an amazing composer, who my boyfriend loved so much that I’m afraid he might actually run away with him, The Simple Pleasure who had me bouncing around and possibly crushing other people’s toes, and Bitter Ruin who left me speechless.[1. Jherek Bischoff, and Chad Raines from The Simple Pleasure are part of the Grand Theft Orchestra.] Seriously.
To the fans. She goes so much further than any other artist I have ever seen to please her fans. She connects with them on Twitter. She stays after gigs to sign things and talk to fans. She crowd surfs, even though there is a small chance that we could all drop her on the floor. She comes into the crowd to dance with everyone. At the gig I went to last October she came outside for the encore, and perched on a wall with the crowd surrounding her. She doesn’t have to do all these things. Nobody is paying her any extra money for the extra time she spends. Nobody is paying her anything extra to endanger herself by running through the crowd. Nobody is paying her anything extra to sign things for loads of people. But she does it anyway. That’s dedication.
Some fans brought glitter, and went down the queue sharing their glitter (which means throwing it on everyone, obviously). My boyfriend got some accidentally thrown in his drink, which means there’s a chance he might turn into a magical unicorn. We can only hope…
She’s Great at Proving a Point
When she performed at Glastonbury she had what all newspapers everywhere call a ‘Wardrobe malfunction’, which unfortunately does not mean that her wardrobe had a psychotic episode and began chasing her, just that her boob escaped from her shirt. Obviously the Daily Mail decided to cash in on this mishap and printed this article. (If you’re allergic to boobs or your parents are standing over you I’d advise you don’t click the link. I don’t want to be blamed for any complaining mothers, or perverted fathers.) What the Daily Mail didn’t realise is Amanda Palmer is not an artist who is shy to bare all. There are many pictures and many videos showing her less-than-clothed, so the Daily Mail’s response was obviously not well researched.
What did she do in the face of this newspaper article? Did she put her head in her hands and hope that nobody reads the Daily Mail? No. She wrote a song. And got naked half way through it. In front of a live audience.
This was not the gig I went to, but fans put the video up on Youtube. The song’s hilarious. Point proven.
Note: Don’t search for this video if you’re uncomfortable watching naked women playing keyboards. I know, keyboards can be incredibly distasteful sometimes…
I feel very uncomfortable right now.
The fans are lovely. Never have I been to a gig where the atmosphere has been so friendly. When she came into the crowd there was a big rush to grab her/touch her/do God-knows-what with her and a girl ended up falling. Loads of us rushed to get her up. Strangers helping strangers. Strangers talking to strangers and dancing with strangers. It was beautiful. The friendliness of fans was also clear when my topless bottle (insert joke about my bottle being mentioned in a Daily Mail article) was being waved in the air during The Simple Pleasure’s ‘Carnival of Love’. I spilt it. On a guy’s head. I instantly began apologising. He just shrugged and smiled. People at Amanda Palmer gigs just shrug and smile when you soak them. What more could you want?
If this has not persuaded you to book tickets immediately then I don’t know what will. I haven’t even gone into how great of an artist she is, and how she can cut straight from songs that have you dancing wildly to songs that have you covering your face with tissues so no one can notice your mascara dribbling down your face. I’ve got this many arguments without mentioning the music. Come on, guys.
I’m sorry for anyone who wants to stab me right now for writing about something they have no interest in at all. I promise the next blog entry will be shorter and contain less ransom notes. If you all give me £1000…