You don't need no ticket

inklingfair

Nov 1

(Warning: unabashed fangirling. I'm archiving this here in anticipation of the next live concert I'm looking forward to in 2023 - EXO. I wrote this back in December 2019, my last adventure in a crowd of strangers pre-pandemic.)

Before it fades from memory:
Pre-show chicken rendang and water chestnut juice. Making new friends in the GA queue at high noon. Someone bought everyone cold beers, someone took a shower, someone brought adobo and rice. Good-natured ribbing between the security people (one of whom was a U2 fan since the 70s - pre-Boy?!) and queuemates. "Hold my place, I have to pee!" Mad dash down to the B-stage where we scored an unbelievable rail spot behind Larry. Sunset on the stadium.

"You saw the whole of the moon!" Waving my War banner like mad. Breathless during Bad. Edge strolling by our rail. Larry tossing his sticks to a girl two heads to my left after Pride.

Heart pounding during the first bars of Streets. The raw rage of Bullet the Blue Sky. Bono stalking the stage as Zoo-era Mirrorball Man's sinister twin, probably. Not-so-subtle Trump commentary (I wonder if Bono will blast Duterte's drug war in Mothers of the Disappeared for the PH show, but something tells me he'll be less fire and brimstone, more passive aggressive). A giant Morleigh shimmying behind Edge (props for the Mysterious Ways nod). Adam, a son of Singapore, formerly of Changi, fabulous at 14.

Encore! Crowd going wild as Larry makes a hand heart sign on the massive screen. Bono, woke before it became a Thing, preaching about the sci-fi of religious tolerance. Walking headily back to the hotel in the cool night air because even Singapore's MRT was no match for the post-concert crowd.

It was like nothing else. It was even better than the real thing. It was magic. Thank you, U2.