The day had finally arrived – March 6th
2019. Bryan Adams was playing the Bournemouth International Centre. I’d been
waiting for months; well, years actually but only months since buying the
tickets. The Bournemouth International Centre (known as The B.I.C.) is a great
venue, has a capacity of just over four thousand and is perfectly situated on
the sea front. It has hosted some big names over the years and regularly brings
our seaside town to life with awesome music. We’ve accompanied our young
children to McFly and Busted, sent the older ones off alone to Prodigy and
Pendulum; there’s been Ultravox, Human League and Midge Ure for my 80’s synth-mad
hubby (and his not-so-keen-on 80’s synth wife) and finally I got to see my
childhood crush/obsession, Donny Osmond, a couple of years ago.
 |
| The BIC, built in 1984, on the right. To the left, the Pavilion Theatre, built in 1920's |
All in all, The
B.I.C. delivers every time. And last night was no different. Greeted by
friendly bag-searchers and equally friendly merch sellers, then shown to our
seats by smiling ushers – I think I’d be smiling too if I had their job with
all that music for free – put us both in an upbeat mood for what promised to be
an amazing night with Bryan Adams. Our front row seats in the upper balcony
meant we had a walkway in front of us leading to the exit and toilets but a
clear view of the stage as the lower tier dropped just beyond the walkway. It was
a prime position for people watching (because that’s what I love to do) as they
passed by to take their seats. It was great to see a mix of ages although I’d
guess that 90% were our age, just a few years younger than the man himself; people
who’d grown up with him, followed his career, and delighted in his success like a proud sibling. Yes, a great
crowd had gathered to celebrate his Shine a Light tour. There was a real
buzz of excited anticipation as the auditorium filled up; comrades in arms,
sauntering in with brimming plastic beer glasses, programmes and coveted tour
t-shirts.
With no support act, the concert kicked off with a bang as we raised
the roof cheering our hero onto the stage. He was incredible, his energy
boundless, his enthusiasm infectious and his voice timeless. Classics such as Summer of 69, Run to You, Everything I do, and
18 Til I Die spurred rusty voices
into life, decades-old lyrics tripping off our tongues as if we had learnt them
only yesterday.
Despite showing our age, we all produced our up-to-the-minute smart phones and held them aloft with synchronised swaying of arms to the beautiful strumming of Straight From the Heart, shining a thousand lights in tribute to Bryan’s dad who sadly passed away last year – something he shared with us in a touching moment when he talked about the inspiration for his album Shine A Light. His music brought about a roller coaster of emotions; igniting forgotten memories, reliving our youth, realising our future, missing absent loved ones, regretting the speed in which life hurtles along and yet, singing with abandon because we are in that moment very much alive and young at heart.
Despite showing our age, we all produced our up-to-the-minute smart phones and held them aloft with synchronised swaying of arms to the beautiful strumming of Straight From the Heart, shining a thousand lights in tribute to Bryan’s dad who sadly passed away last year – something he shared with us in a touching moment when he talked about the inspiration for his album Shine A Light. His music brought about a roller coaster of emotions; igniting forgotten memories, reliving our youth, realising our future, missing absent loved ones, regretting the speed in which life hurtles along and yet, singing with abandon because we are in that moment very much alive and young at heart.
There was just one downside to the whole night.
The brimming plastic beer glasses: hastily consumed and hastily refilled before
the concert started, and indeed, also once the concert was in full swing. With
all the free-flowing alcohol and not such cast iron bladders, it meant a steady
stream (no pun intended) passed by, a mix of concentration and urgency on their
faces as they realised their folly. One woman swayed as she got up from her
seat, steadied herself on her walking stick and tottered towards the toilets,
only to stumble and fall inches from the exit. Similarly, another chap stood up
and he too fell down but didn’t even bother to attempt standing up again – he just
crawled slowly towards the door.
Directly in front, a woman sang along enthusiastically all the while recording the concert on her phone, turning occasionally to hug and kiss her partner, and down the drinks he fetched. Throwing her hands in the air in joy at the first bars of Whiskey in a Jar, her phone was catapulted from her grip. A frantic groping around under her seat amounted to nothing. Her partner shrugged and mouthed ‘leave it for now’ to which she angrily shouted, ‘well f**k you’, prompting him to crawl along the aisle looking for it. Phone found, ten people disturbed in the process, she kissed her partner and carried on singing, oblivious to the shocked (sober) faces and amused (drunk) sniggers. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a moaning Minnie, I found it all quite funny but I did feel sorry for the scores of people forced to repeatedly play the ‘stand up, breath in, sit down’ game as fellow fans precariously edged their way along the aisles to relieve themselves, then go for a top-up of beer and repeat the cycle, all the while missing the band that were playing and singing their hearts out on stage.
Directly in front, a woman sang along enthusiastically all the while recording the concert on her phone, turning occasionally to hug and kiss her partner, and down the drinks he fetched. Throwing her hands in the air in joy at the first bars of Whiskey in a Jar, her phone was catapulted from her grip. A frantic groping around under her seat amounted to nothing. Her partner shrugged and mouthed ‘leave it for now’ to which she angrily shouted, ‘well f**k you’, prompting him to crawl along the aisle looking for it. Phone found, ten people disturbed in the process, she kissed her partner and carried on singing, oblivious to the shocked (sober) faces and amused (drunk) sniggers. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a moaning Minnie, I found it all quite funny but I did feel sorry for the scores of people forced to repeatedly play the ‘stand up, breath in, sit down’ game as fellow fans precariously edged their way along the aisles to relieve themselves, then go for a top-up of beer and repeat the cycle, all the while missing the band that were playing and singing their hearts out on stage.
Compromised co-ordination and dodgy bladders
aside, we had a fantastic night. Simon has a new-found love for Bryan Adams, and
I have revised my Mother’s Day wish/hint list to include some old Bryan Adams
albums missing from my library. We got home late; inspired, uplifted, happy and
content. And bursting for a pee.