Notes to self: next time you go to the O2 Academy, wear old shoes, because the floor evidently hasn’t been cleaned in years – either that or they’ve laid some very sticky carpet. And also, you need to find somewhere to sit because femoro-acetabular impingement (look it up… it’s not fun) plus a three hour stand equals a painful night/morning/ following afternoon.
Anyway, last night Elaine and I made the trip north to see Bo Bruce on what I think was the second night of her live tour.
Oh… note number three… smuggle in some pop because the Pepsi (at least that’s what they called it) was £1.75 for a very small plastic cup.
Bo may not have won last year’s final of The Voice, but right from the blind audition (when her first couple of lines sent a shiver down my spine), it was clear that she had a special talent and what I was really looking forward to was hearing Bo sing without the gloss of a television performance and the relative safety of a produced album.
The reality was stunning.
Her dress was able to flow courtesy of the fan at her feet and she is obviously a very pretty young woman, but I couldn’t help but be drawn to her eyes - wonderfully emotive and expressive.
And that voice…
What struck me was the way that Bo almost lost herself in her music at times: songs written at the most exciting, yet paradoxically saddest period of her life and lyrics which hold an intensely personal meaning were shared with people (most of whom) Bo had never met. I have tried, in my own way, to use this blog as a release from those times of deep introspection that I have. Maybe the songs Bo sang last night are a similar release, albeit on an artistic plane far higher than I could ever aspire to.
Much may have been made of Bo’s background and upbringing, but it’s irrelevant. She certainly didn’t ask to be born into privilege and the truth is that nothing can prevent the emptiness and grief that can follow the loss of a loved one. During Bo’s last song, there was a line: “A day is still a day, I just miss you…” I stood with my hand resting on Elaine’s shoulder, my wife who has lost both her parents and I’m not embarrassed to say that I shed a tear.
A glance up at the stage and Bo’s eyes (whether open or shut) conveyed the pain she has suffered and I felt privileged that I was one of those people with whom Bo Bruce was willing and able to share such emotion.
I don’t think I want to say anything else. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to meet Bo Bruce and thank her in person – maybe I won’t, but I witnessed someone and something very special last night and for that I am very grateful x
All my own work... almost.