The 6th of December was another one of those days when London was spoiled for choice when it came to live music. At the Shepherd's Bush Empire, Black Stone Cherry were giving their fans a night to remember forever. Hardcore lovers could hit the Underworld, in Camden, where Counterparts, Expire, Landscapes and Knocked Loose were, without a doubt, wreaking havoc. I had chosen option number three - Australian metalcore heroes The Amity Affliction, headlining the wonderful Roundhouse.
It's the third of December, 2016, and I've just come out of the party of the year. Who would have thought it would have been held by one supremely emo band.
The thought that in the space of, roughly, two months, my all-time favourite band played London four times and I was lucky enough to attend every single one of these shows is one of the best things that happened in 2016. I didn't even think a new album would come out this year. Four shows? It's even better than my birthday and Christmas rolled into one.
It's Halloween and I am getting the big words out.
It's Halloween and I have just attended a moment that will, for sure, leave a mark in the history of British rock music.
I really wanted to write separate reviews for those gigs, but it turns out I can't, really.So, once again, going to an Architects gig (or three) is going to turn into a tribute to one of my favourite bands in the entire world.
And what if I've seen Moose Blood in two different towns in the space of a week and what if both times were magical in their own different way.
This is the story of how what should have been a disaster ended up being a fairly awesome day. Those are the best days, aren't they?
Here's the deal.
It's me watching The Xcerts live. Of course I'm excited. They are one of my favourite bands and knowing I get to see them live gives me something to look forward to. They're a little ray of sunshine in my life - always have, and I intend to always keep it that way.
I used to like starting gig reviews with little catchphrases, but it's too much effort trying to turn my feelings into a catchy couple of words, and it's not real enough, and I just want this to be feelings and nothing else.
I don't think any of you understands the joy I have writing my favourite band's name in the title bar. And I don't think I realise how tough this one is going to be - how do you actually write words about your favourite band in the entire world. I don't want to sound impartial, but we all know I'll always be - to me, they are the best thing since sliced bread, and given the choice, I'd pick them over every single artist, ever.
Jumping on a train pretty much last minute, I had done before.
But jumping on a plane? That was a new one.
(This has actually been written before the weekend's events regarding Asking Alexandria. I still mean it)
I had intended on calling this "A very Basement summer" as I was meant to see them four times in a little over a month, but Reading Festival never happened, and it went down to three in a little over a week. My summer ended up being a little less dedicated to the Ipswich natives as I wanted it to be, but the portion that was was still very much enjoyable. (And full of stupid little stories)
In 2015, while I was at T in the Park, a smaller festival was taking place near Cheltenham, in south west England : 2000 Trees. I adored every single minute of T, but there was still a part of me that would have loved to be surrounded by all these trees. My friends all were there and kept praising the event, and the likes of Deaf Havana, We Are The Ocean, Bury Tomorrow and The Xcerts were playing.
It felt like my dream festival.
And in 2016, here I went.
Here's to a special one.
I never thought I'd have the bravery to write those words and I never wanted to have to. I never thought I'd find the words either. And I still feel a little bit silly about feeling so hard, so intensely. But I can't help it. Oh God, I really can't.
There was that one day when I was going to work, it was probably May or something, the sun was out and it was shaping up to be a lovely day. I used to work in a clothes shop that belonged to another one and I had to pick up the keys, walk through the quirky little streets of North Laine and get to the other shop, just in front of Kensington Gardens. And that morning, I'd picked up the keys, put my iPod back on and crossed those streets, and I saw Tom Searle at the terrace of the vegan cafe which name I can never remember. I think it's the Loving Hut, but don't quote me on that. And he was sat there, living his life, and I tried to be the cool girl who didn't stare, and he smiled at me. And I thought it was because I'd stared more than I wanted to and he was just being polite. And I'd completely forgotten I was wearing an Architects t-shirt that day and it was probably why he smiled at me.
And it's not headline news.
Emo kid runs into guitar player of one of her favourite bands. Said guitar player smiles at her.
And for some reason it meant something.
He'd taken two seconds out of his day to acknowledge my existence because I was wearing his band's merch and it meant something and I wish I could explain.
I still walk past the Loving Hut a lot. North Laine is my favourite place in that town I'm lucky enough to call home. And now it feels a little bit different. A little bit empty, maybe. But that memory, it will always be there.
I know it may sound silly to some people as I didn't know Tom personally, but the minute I read about his death, I lost a part of me. I had just finished work and I was on my phone, and I saw a message from Emma sending me love, and I thought she was just being her usual, lovely, kind self, I thought she was just being Emma.
And then I saw.
And I grabbed my keys and left the house and tried to figure out what to do with myself and how not to throw up and how not to crumble on the ground and cry.
And I walked around a lot that day, just trying to get it out of my system.
And then I went home and tried so hard to call my brother, and he would not pick up the phone. And then he did. "The guitar player for Architects just died". And I broke down and the world just stopped, finally.
I had a hard time wrapping my broken mind around it. I didn't want it to be real. I wanted to wake up and it hadn't happened. And I woke up at 6 the next day and Tom was still gone.
It's almost been a month and I've accepted it as a fact. He's gone.
The thing is, I also can't help but feeling the world is a little bit less bright now he's not here anymore. There's a little less hope in the world. And I want that hope back, and I want that life back, but I just don't know how.
It's almost been a month and I've acceped it as a fact. He's gone.
And I thought it hurt less but tonight, I've seen The Xcerts and they dedicated There Is Only You to him and it was agony. I ended up outside, tears stuck in my throat, trying not to throw up. It's almost been a month and it's still torture.
But here's the thing.
The world is a little bit less bright and there's a part of myself that I'll never get back, but what Tom created with Architects made my life infinitely better.
They have changed my life in an incredibly positive way and they have changed me as a person - a better person.
They have taught me to be more mindful - of the world around me, of myself.
They have shaped the person I'm becoming every day and they have given me so much.
They've brought me and my brother closer together. What we shared when we saw them with Parkway Drive in Paris and my brother laughed and said I almost punched him in the face three times during Naysayer was stronger than everything.
The art and the vision of the world Tom gave me, Tom gave us, changed everything turned everything around, shapeshifted everything in the most positive way, and completely unexpectedly. I remember seeing Architects at Damage Festival in 2012 and I was sick and I ended up on stage, and I remember seeing them at Warped UK the week after, and we'd found Tom at the merch stand and we got so caught up talking to we missed a chunk of Lostprophets' set.
On these days, on those moments, when I just knew of them and appreciated the odd song here and there, I never thought they'd change my life. They completely took me by surprise and before I knew it, I was counting on The Here and Now to make me feel better, I was changing my life for the better.
I couldn't possibly put into words the exact impact they had on my life or the way my heart bursts with joy when they walk on a stage or the way I could feel the pain in my heart when I read "RIP Tom" online. There will never be any existing words for that, only feelings, and maybe that's better this way.
The last time I ever saw Tom was when Architects did the release show for All Our Gods Have Abandoned Us on the 27th of May. On that day, nothing mattered more than the smile on my brother's face and the amazement in his voice as we walked along Madeira Drive after the show. And I know I will always be grateful to Tom for creating something that gave me a better world but the thing that I will always be most grateful for is how the art he created and the vision of the world he had gives my brother an escape every day. That is a gift beyond every gig, beyond every chat, beyond everything else.
And I wish I could have said thank you for that.
I will never quite accept that Tom isn't here anymore and I know there will always be something missing. I know the next times I see Architects are going to be beyond painful and I'm immensely scared.
But I can tell you the inspiration he's always been is not going anywhere. The mark he left on my life and on my family is not going anywhere. The music he's given us is not going anywhere.
And I'll just try too hold on to the part of me he changed forever.
I know it sounds silly because I didn't know him personally. He was just the guitar player from one of my favourite bands and we just talked twice, the last time being two years ago. But the power of music, man. That's stronger than everything I know and it may be why I feel that way.
I don't know.
There's no conclusion for this. I didn't think of an end for this.
Don't read too much into it.
One thing that I always like to experience is hometown shows. I am a sucker for hometown shows. And I got to attend one that was on my bucket list for a while.
The neverending list of bands I adore.
Scotland, we need to talk.
Spoiler alert : Slammy D, as always, proved to be the one and only.
As an intro to this, I just want to say that Brighton's Concorde 2 was the home of one of the most important gigs of the year, and here's why.
Teenage dreams.
Someone just asked me how my day was, and one of its biggest events was how I now have my physical copy of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. And I was very excited. And that same someone asked me why I loved Harry Potter so much.
Festival season is go!
A whole lot of feelings. (How shocking)
If you wonder why I love small gigs, here you go.
Another Friday night, another gig.
As far as unique gigs go, this one takes the cake.
A dream come true.
A flight and a complete change of weather later, I find myself in rainy London to see my favourite rays of sunshine - Moose Blood.
It's a special Thursday evening for the French scene. No more, no less.
Another Friday night at the Concorde.
The motto to this was "why the hell not?"
On a rainy Thursday, I was fifteen again.
It's hard to believe that festival season is almost upon us, and as announcements are still appearing on social media almost every day, I wanted to look back on my favourite day festival and one of my favourite things to ever exist : Slam Dunk Festival.
Dear future me.
What a way to celebrate my come back to Brighton.
Let's call this night a happy accident.
I have a little bit of a story to tell you. (Again)
Hi everyone, welcome to this blog's first big project.
Dear Young Me.
I would like to thank God, but also Jesus for all these cool small gigs in B-town recently.
Life is tough, but thankfully, live music exists.
There are so many things I could say about that gig and weirdly enough, I don't know where to start. It was a slightly overwhelming night, and a very important one for British music, if I do say so myself.
birdskulls