Live and Smilin'

I mentioned previously that I'd managed to snag us a couple of tickets for the not-so-secret Sheryl Crow gig at the Scala, so off we went on Thursday night, riding the train into the Big Smoke.

As it was St Valentine's day we were half expecting to find outselves dodging and weaving our way past scores of swarthy looking men asking "Rose for the lady?" in broken English, but no, our path from Kings Cross to the Scala was romantic blackmail free. (Not thatI have anything against Valentine's Day as such, it's just that I'll buy the lady a rose when I damn well feel like it, not when told to.)

The gig was amazing. I've wanted to see Sheryl Crow for years, but didn't want to go and stand in an aircraft hanger for the privilege, so instead we stood at the upstairs bar looking down on the stage, and enjoyed the best part of a couple of hours of live music.

The thing that I really enjoyed, though, was not watching Sheryl (though it has to be said I do find her very easy on the eye, and there's something about the slightly older woman that's always done it for me), but instead watching her keyboard player Mike Rowe.

Here was a guy who was clearly having a blast indulging in his art, something that I can identify with by way of the sheer joy that writing brings to me. The grin never left his face as he deftly switched between the three or four sets of keys surrounding him, and I found myself grinning along for the duration of the gig.

It reminded me once more that while I love music in all shapes and forms, you can't beat seeing it live, particularly when the performers are clearly doing it for the sheer joy of actually being up there on stage and playing.

We've got a whole series of gigs planned so far this year, with artists as diverse as Newton Faulkener, Radiohead, Iron Maiden, Ace Frehley and Gary Numan on the calendar, and I can't wait to see each and every one of them.