Post by Jules on Jul 10, 2019 11:48:11 GMT
So Raoul told me he DID write an extensive gig report, but only in Portuguese. Here is what Google Translate made of it. If you want to read the source including all links (and see his great photos), head here:
nit.pt/opiniao/tears-for-fears-brighton-cronica-jornada-frenetica
Tears For Fears in Brighton: the chronicle of a frantic journey
Much more than a critique of a concert, this is a love letter to Tears For Fears
11/02/2019 at 10:25
Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith, seen from the front row
text
Nuno Bento
photography
Nuno Bento
source: NiT
This is much more than a mere chronicle of a concert. It's a love letter to Tears For Fears, the band that taught me that there was no harm in expressing my emotions. It's a chronicle of a frenzied journey between London, Brighton and Esher, which involved a Tears For Fears concert in the grids, floods, death threats, signed posters, setlists, reeds, posters, smiles exchanged with Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith and the bonus of talking to me on the microphone DURING THE CONCERT (sorry for the caps lock, it's still emotion).
Oh and all this while work and everyday life were going on normally. Long days last a hundred years. This journey will last a lifetime. This is the chronicle of how a band can make a living.
1. The Bible Of Dreams - The Dream Of A Life
One of the dreams of my entire adult life has always been to see Tears For Fears live. As a teenager, the Bath band played the role of psychologist. It was their music that taught me that there was no harm in expressing my emotions (in spite of my sins, according to my mother). Since that time the TFF have been the most consistent band in my entire life, even more so than the "giants" Queen and Pink Floyd, which I usually point out as my favorite bands but who have a much more seasonal presence in my everyday life , when compared to TFF.
Over the years, I waited patiently for them to come to Portugal. Every spring he crossed his fingers for Covones, Roberta, or Montez to remember them and bring them to their festivals. Before the time of Facebook, I spent the days refreshing the page of Blitz, always in fleas for the new confirmations for the festivals. But it was never the Tears For Fears. Either they did not come to Europe, or they did, they invariably escaped our circuit.
In 2005, at a time when I was coaching and barely had money to go to the Coast, I planned a trip to London to see the TFF Hammersmith Odeon. My savings of € 200 laughed. I did not go. I ended up with this money going to Madrid to see the (at the time ultra-exciting) return of the "Queen" with Paul Rodgers, in an epic bus journey that is yet to be counted.
In 2016, to live a low in my life and tired of waiting for the TFF to come to me, I decided to go to them. I then planned a lightning trip to the United States, to go see the historic Red Rocks in Colorado (tell me if the poster is not a marvel). But it was not a cheap adventure, and even with a few more changes in my wallet, my savings started laughing again. And I did not go again. I ended up going to London with David Gilmour at the Royal Albert Hall (history here), at what remains to this day his last concert in his own name. But the Tears For Fears were always missing.
It was for that reason without doubting that when in the autumn of 2017 the Tears For Fears set a date for the legendary Royal Albert Hall (note this trend, always the same places to appear cyclically), I marked Lisbon ticket and trip. It was a glorious night, unforgettable, perfect, the best ever; all superlatives apply (and were at the time documented here at NiT). Curiously, tonight also marked the end of a cycle, as it turned out to be my last touring trip to London, before I moved here.
Ruling the world at Royal Albert Hall! At last last, Tears For fucking Fears!
Posted by Nuno Bento on Friday, October 27, 2017
A year ago came an opportunity, those that we immediately realize that only appear once in a lifetime. On a sleepless night, I went to check out the tickets for the 2019 Tears For Fears tour. This tour was to have happened a year ago (and I had no ticket), but in the meantime Roland Orzabal's wife died of cancer and threw him into a depression that prevented the release of the new TFF album and did postpone the tour one year . With this postponement, many asked for the money back and with that they released some luxury places. Places like what appeared to me IN THE FIRST ROW in Brighton (there I am with the Caps Lock) and looked down from the heavens, right on my lap. I did not want to believe it. After thanking Freddie, George and my other little angels, I marked the place without blinking. And without thinking the concert was in Brighton on a Monday.
2. The Working Hour - a day of unusual work
It had everything programmed in detail. He left London in the morning and went to Esher to work as usual. At 4:00, if the day went off exceptionally well and there was no problem solving the Battersea Power Station's work, I'd grab things and put me on the train on the way to Brighton. With time well told, it was there at the time of opening doors.
Do not start laughing anymore. It's just that I had to be there at the time of opening doors. This is because normally Roland and Curt signed some 25 posters of the tour and only the first ones to arrive at the venue were that they grabbed them. Nothing could fail, with the risk of not passing one of the testimonies of this tight rush of messengers and going all the way down. And speaking of water. The day was running as normally as possible on a Monday, when at one o'clock they called me from Foxtons (the agency where I rented my house in London) and they told me that there was water in the apartment of the neighbor of low. This meant that there could be a flood in my house. Fucking hell. It was really the day for a tragedy like this.
My people. There's something you need to know about me. I am a very zealous guy with his belongings. And obsessive-compulsive when it comes to your collection of vinyl records. When I brought my entire collection of a thousand records to London (there are two thousand of them today), I was sure that they were fine with me. To think that some damned broken pipe had ruined years of work and passion, left me in a state of panic and inner corrosion that is difficult to explain here. I described the situation to my boss as the catastrophe that it was. And he who already knows me enough to know the importance of my records, released me, "but only after doing your timesheets!" He says. These Englishmen are the rules whores. When I had done my homework, I was on my way home, fearing the worst.
Arrived home, there were no signs of water on the floor. Relief. The broken pipe was pouring into the downstairs apartment, but mine was apparently safe. At least to my neighbors upstairs - a very playful Germanic couple - returning to their Saturday night banter in the bath. But ahead.
Now it was time to put the initial plan back on the rails. Pajama in the suitcase and head to Victoria, to catch the train heading south. Just outside Victoria Station is one of my favorite images of London: the Battersea Power Station seen behind the Pimlico train park, before the Grosvenor Bridge. All the difficulties seemed to have lagged behind. Now it was just smooth sailing.
3. I Believe - Before the Concert
I arrived in Brighton under the classic British weather - the showers. As the name implies, I took a bath on the way to the venue and so I arrived at the Brighton Center all drenched. But just in time for what I wanted. I was one of the first to come and I could have the merch stand just for me and yes, the signed posters were there. But balls, 50 £ ?! It was only 15 of them, so I had to decide quickly. Anyway, this one day are not days. In addition to the much-desired signed poster, I also brought some Seeds Of Love socks that are my new passion.
Sowing the Seeds Of Love 🌞😍
Posted by London Calling NiTfm on Sunday, February 10, 2019
It was then time to schedule the next step. Once I had a ticket for the front row, I thought I'd bring a poster for the first time to a concert. But what could I ask of the boys? The first thing that came to my mind was to ask to play my favorite theme of the Tears For Fears - the most outrageous "Raoul And The Kings Of Spain". But this had two snags: first, I know the band and I know it was not because I asked the subject that they would play it, not being rehearsed; and then it's a Roland-a-solo theme of the TFF's and I knew I'd have Curt right in front of me. So I decided on the second-best-thing:
Yes, that's how they read it - I wanted to sing the verse from "Shout." For those who do not remember, it's that part: "in violent times, you should not have to sell your soul." Theoretically, my plan had everything to go right. I knew it was the last song on the set and I knew that Roland used to lend the microphone to the audience to sing the chorus. When I went to see them at the Royal Albert Hall in 2017, I saw Roland let a guy sing part of the verse and, astonished, he did not know the lyrics. But I knew it and was going to show it to Roland, "I Believe." Head to the main hall of the Brighton Center.
Before the strong plate of the night, Allison Moyet to open. And what a beautiful surprise. Between the hits of Yazoo and her solo career, the former lead singer of the synthpop duo (who formed with hitmaker Vince Clarke when it left the Depeche Mode) was a revelation.
Looking around me, I realize that I am an alien in there. Not only am I the only foreigner in the room, I am also the only one under 35. Also height to put something in the stomach, I had spent all day just with a toast at 8 in the morning. Then get two pints, that the Tears For Fears are just coming.
4. Head Over Heels - The Concert of a Life I
I have talked over and over again in this space about the excellence of the Tears For Fears. But for those who have not yet read the memo, here's one more time: Tears For Fears were the best band of the 80's. Period. Where The Smiths have the "Hatful of Hollow", the TFF have "The Hurting"; where The Cure has Disintegration, TFF have "The Seeds Of Love"; where the U2 have "The Joshua Tree", the TFF have "Songs From The Big Chair". They are the most complete band of all that have left this decade.
The biggest compliment that can be made to the TFF is that they are a band that has aged well. They are a band that had success in years 80, but its pallet sonorous is much wider than that decade. The Tears For Fears record arc is nothing short of perfect (also because the boys have always had the gift of noticing when to stop). Each album is an independent island, which lives by itself and is only linked to the others by mere questions of language. It is Roland himself who confesses that "to build something new we must first destroy what exists; to create, we must kill. " The discography of the TFF is so perfect that you just want to hug and sleep with it, so that you can marry in the morning. But why complicate a relationship that is already so perfect?
As a result, the Tears For Fears estate is not very extensive (especially for a band that was born almost 40 years ago), but clinically accurate. Any iteration of your repertoire would give a solid setlist. When this is built around the hits of the band, there is no way to fail. The set was therefore a hit after hit ride, with precious deep cuts down the middle. There are so many successes that the Tears For Fears have the luxury to start with "Everybody Wants To Rule The World", only the most scrobbled theme in Spotify.
It follows the enthralling "Secret World", a theme of very special meaning, where the boys show the symbiosis that illustrates why the Tears For Fears magic needs their presence. I did not take too many videos this evening as I was trying to absorb as much as I could. But I show you my favorite video of Brighton, with the boys in perfect harmony in "Secret World":
The discussion of the importance of parties in Tears For Fears is old. There's a large fan base that sees Roland alone as the Tears For Fears. And it's easy to see why. Roland is the forgotten genius of the 80's. His image was not as iconic as Morrissey, not as dark as Robert Smith and (definitely) not as attractive as Simon Le Bon's. Roland has always been the anticool prototype. But that never bothered me. That was never his call. There is an unspeakable animal magnetism in Roland Orzabal, one of the most dense and enigmatic characters in music.
At Tears For Fears, Roland was almost everything. It was he who wrote most of the song, sang most of the songs and yet, when it came time to pick the singles, they were invariably for Curt. Because the truth is it was Curt who sold the Tears For Fears.
One Day The Wham Andrew Ridgeley! (look who) said the Tears For Fears were "all about Curt". And indeed it was Curt who figured on the Bravo covers; it was Curt who appeared at parties with Morrissey; it was Curt who was friends with Phil Collins (and who took him to be plagued by Roland in the sessions of the album "The Seeds Of Love"). Even though it was not the source of the song, it was all about Curt Smith. (Note, do not underestimate Mr. Andrew Ridgeley, he may have little or no musical talent, but he is a millionaire who made his fortune at the expense of a career in music ... without musical talent.)
Curt was impeccable and those who say they do not need the Tears For Fears need to see with their own eyes the performance of such themes as the epic "Badman's Song". As usual, the 10-minute classic was the highlight of the show. Here are the boys on a jam on "Badman's Song":
Andrew Ridgeley was right. There is indeed something special about Curt Smith. It has an air both affable and impeccable, which make it an unshakable machine of coolness. He is the aileron of the Tears For Fears. Having him there with me, at arm's length, sending that broken-down "Broken" line down and even making eye contact with me every two minutes, (sighing) would leave me melting as if was a teenage fan looking at Bravo's cover. It did not even look real.
5. Memories Fade - The Concert of a Life II
Memories came back from one night in 2011, when on another (epic) journey, I crossed the Nevada desert in record time, only to catch Curt Smith live in Los Angeles in a room that had a maximum of 50 people. In the end we talked for a long time about how he did not know if the Tears For Fears were going to record again, how he loved Portugal and how passionate he was for Cristiano Ronaldo's football. I discovered that Curt was a fervent Manchester United fan and there was "Head Over Heels" for Jose Mourinho to take charge of his heart team. "Careful what you wish for", I already did the English saying. Years later, his "Advice" would be fulfilled, but "I Believe" that after a Year Of The Knife in Manchester, everything turned into "The Hurting". This is only the fans who have realized. Forward.
And speaking of "The Hurting," at the introduction of "Mad World," Curt asked the audience who was a TFF fan since then. 1983, therefore. And I, who was right there beside him, answered that I had not yet been born. I want to remember here that I was in the front row. I do not know if I said that. Incidentally, before I started the concert, I had risen from the front row to lean against the bars, were it not for some smart guy to cover the field of vision. But returning to Curt, he heard and answered NO MICROPHONE "there is someone here who is very excited about being born yet. God, I'm old. "Fucking hell. Talk about contact with your idols.
Of course the contact I was really looking forward to was letting me sing a little of the "Shout". I knew that Roland had let the audience sing at all the concerts so far, so there was no reason why my plan did not work out. Except that something had happened in Encore Break. The band was having some technical problems. Nothing that was noticeable from where I was listening, except when the boys inadvertently switched from microphones to "Mad World," and Roland's backing vocals overcame Curt's vocal lead, which seemed to amuse Roland.
Roland was visibly hammered throughout the concert. And according to the information that I get from the Facebook groups, it has been so the whole tour. It's hard to see what will happen in your head after your wife's death. Roland revealed to the Evening Standard that he hit bottom last year and it took a long time to get out of the hole. Its transformation since the Royal Albert Hall show is evident. Roland is older, more crude, more animal. But with the same pain and power as ever in the voice. I hope you have cared for sorrows in songs that we can hear in the future. As it is - "Please Be Happy" - which he shared in July 2017, when his wife died and almost no one heard.
Roland's recovery process delayed the tour last year and it is not known that more damage has brought the Tears For Fears. The new album - "Tipping Point" - was announced by the band in 2013, but we are already in 2019 and there is no sign that its release is near. Judging by the new merchandising, the artwork should be this - has the name of the album changed to "Dancing Gramophone" ?! - everything else is unknown.
Never ends the drama in the TFF. I remember that the tour was once again in danger a month ago when Curt Smith started posting cryptic messages on Twitter, implying that he had abandoned the Tears For Fears. This turned out to be (certainly not inadvertently, that Roland is a very smart guy) in an interview a few weeks ago, when he confessed to the Irish Examiner himself.
When you take a picture of Roland and he glares at the camera 😍 #tearsforfears Tears for Fears Roland Orzabal #rolandorzabal #tearsforfearsmusic
Posted by Nuno Bento on Tuesday, February 5, 2019
This digression did not bring much news, to the despair of the fans (my desperation is that they still do not play "Raoul", but that's me). The great novelty of the tour ended up appearing in, guess what, Brighton. It was the first performance of "Suffer The Children" since 1983. The forums went into hysteria, far more than the present ones, it is said. I loved it. But you know, I was more in fleas for Encore.
6. Shout - The Encore
Chance of chance. At the entrance to the encore, the band did not seem very pleased. Curt arrived, grabbed the microphone, and as he spoke of the "fucking technical issues" the band had had with the microphones, Roland went to the other end of the stage. Something was not going well.
I knew that "Shout" was going to close the encore, so I finally drew from my poster: "PLEASE LET ME SING THE VERSE OF SHOUT". Curt saw, laughed at me and warned Roland - "Hey, looks like someone here wants to sing the" Shout "! But then Curt looked at me and remembered - "but we're not going to Shout" now. And they did not. But you'll see.
But in this, Roland, who was on the other side of the stage with his back to Curt (and me), oblivious to what was happening, did not notice and ordered the keyboardist to start the drum loop of "Shout". And then accelerated to the faster version of "Shout" of this tour. For the first and only time, Roland did not go to the public and so, patience, my wish was not satisfied. It was not until he was saying good-bye that Roland noticed the poster and laughed at me. Hey, it's something. And yes, I know, this sounds like the story of a teenage fan. It's not, but I think they've figured out what it's like.
After the departure of the band from the stage, time to ask some goodies to the roadies of the band. I was the first to ask the setlist (oh no!) To Roland's roadie and after ignoring me a few times, he gave me the one that was in Curt's microphone. Notice the encore that was planned.
See? Curt was right - the setlist showed that the band was going to do their classic cover of "Creep" and then, finally, "Shout". Anyway, my nabice that I did not pull the poster sooner. Did you notice that pick there in the middle of the setlist? Oh, right. Not content with the setlist, I spent a few more minutes making the poor roadie's head to give me Roland's reed. And believe me, I can be very annoying in these things. He gave in and when I see her I do not laugh. CLEAR Roland was going to play with a palette with his own face. It could only be his. More narcissistic than this, it is impossible. No wonder Curt called him Sun King.
With the suitcase full of gifts and a tear-stained smile on my face, I left the Brighton Center levitating with the feeling of extra-bodied experience. To have Roland and Curt playing next to me did not seem real. It still does not seem real when I think about it. It was all worth it. And so ended an epic journey of strong emotions. I was thinking.
Nothing more false.
7. Swords And Knives - After The Concert
I really wanted to be able to call this chapter "Goodnight Song", a comforting theme from the "Elemental" album, perfect for listening at the time of the walk. But my sleep experience in Brighton was more of "Swords And Knives".
First of all, let me explain (and defend) my reasoning. I had already spent a lot of money on the ticket for the concert (the first row of a concert like the Tears For Fears here in the UK is no joke); plus the train trip, which is another blow in this country; plus the batch of the signed poster. The trip was already very expensive. Now, since he knew he had to catch the train to Esher very early the next day, he would only be able to sleep for four to five hours. It was not worth marking a room and spending another torrent of money. Solution? A bed in a hostel. Nice idea.
Things at the hostel did not start well. The photos showed a room for 4 people, but after all my reservation was for a 6 person room. Anyway, I'm sleepy. Reached the room, total darkness. And that smell of air-conditioned subway stopped in the middle of a 40-degree tunnel. To see where my feet were, I turned on the flashlight on my cell phone and realized that all the bunks were occupied, except for the floor above one of them. It was my bed.
As I approach, a downcast "Vinnie Jones" comes out to me (I'm going to reproduce in English) - "YOU FUCKING f*ck! It's 11:30! Do you think this is a time to enter the room and slam the fucking door? You woke me up! ". Of the other beds, not a peep. I, obviously intimidated by the 16-by-9 format, my partner's PAL-PLUS screen, I say - "I did not slam the door, it just closed automatically".
But he was not very pleased with my answer, or, I would say, not even with the fact that I dared answer him. And then he goes one more step and puts his nose to mine, which player of the ball, and shoots - "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU! You're saying that was not a slam ?! Maybe you wanna show me the slam now, do you? Do you wanna slam the door on my face, you fucking f*ck? "
Well, that escalated quickly. At this point, as you must understand, it was a victory just because I kept my underwear intact and my legs stiff. I even ventured to brush my teeth to the bathroom (more noise to our friend Vinnie Jones' delight), but when I came back and heard him cursing into a language I could not even decipher, I realized that I had to knock withdrawal. It's just that I was going to sleep over Vinnie Jones. Or rather, he was not going to sleep, because it would be impossible to sleep in those conditions. I grabbed the bundle and went to the front desk to explain what had happened.
Result? They gave me a room just for me. In your face, "Vinnie Jones". And they still promised me that they would ban him forever from the chair of hostels. Good thing I was leaving the hotel at 5 am, otherwise I still risked having my friend "Vinnie" get my clothes on. But let's also agree that when a guy dares to pay £ 17 for a night in Brighton, it must be the best things that can happen.
And all this was only a Monday.
8. Break It Down Again - The Next Day
When I arrived at Brighton Station, I still had about 20 minutes left for my train. It was the first of three trains that would take me to Esher (where I work), in another ticker race where any failure would result in a disaster of epic proportions (okay, it was just getting late to work, but the English are very picky about it of hours). I went to get one of those great cafes, suitable for the long day that came.
At the announcement of the platform, 5 minutes before departure, I headed towards the train, but was intercepted by a reviewer - "Show me your ticket, please". There I showed. "I'm sorry Sir. This is not a valid ticket. This is only for off-peak trains. " Hi? Off-peak trains? My friend, this is 5 in the morning. Okay, it's almost 6, but 6 in the morning is it rush hour? "Yes, you must go to the Travel Center and pay the excess." But it was only three minutes before the start of the train. This realization made me spill the coffee upon me. I ran as I tried to wipe the milk with coffee from my coat. The excess of a £ 35 ticket was "only" £ 21. I even blushed. Another race and I was able to catch the train to the signal of the pipipi of the doors. The first step was safa.
The first passage of testimony was in East Croydon and there were only 4 minutes difference between the arrival of one and the departure of the other. And how could it not be, the Brighton train was delayed ... 4 minutes. I left the train exhausted, and between climbing stairs, running and descending stairs, I must have made a record of 20 seconds and 3 people run over. Once again after the pipipi, I threw myself into a carriage full of East Croydonians who did not find much joke in the joke.
The second witnessing passage was at Clapham Junction and then yes, it was all smooth sailing. I mean, it was quiet because I did not get any pica, because in fact I only paid off-peak excess and not the excess for the link up to Esher. It was the end of crazy 24 hours, of which I am still recovering now.
By the time I finish writing this text, it's been five days since the concert and looking back, everything was so fast that the sensation is that it was all a dream. A good dream. From those who do not feel like waking up and when the damn alarm rings, we put the snooze to try to get back to where we were. It did not look and still does not seem real. And just like in the 2017 concert, I came back to feel that everything went too fast. It is the mystery of time, which makes good moments seem so short and then stretches them in memory for all eternity.
9. Mother's Talk - P.S.
This week my mother called me with bad news. After listening to London Calling this week - my radio program on NiTfm, if they do not know it, they are losing it - he told me: "You expose yourself too much! All that talk that music changed your life and I do not know what. You expose yourself too much! "Oh Mother, it is Roland and Curt's fault. Talk to them.
Speaking of London Calling, do not forget to follow the Facebook page and of course, listen to this week's show "Shows From the Big Chair", dedicated to Tears For Fears. Since I did not have time to prepare the program in the usual way, this week's program is the first one ever to be recorded in its entirety on the spur of the moment.
The idea was to tell the epic story of the last 24 hours and intersperse it with some of Tears For Fears' best live performances. But as always happens when I start telling my stories (ask my trainees), I ended up getting excited and having to interrupt the program when it was practically an hour and a half. The show has performances in 1983 on John Peel's show for the BBC, in 1985 at Massey Hall in Toronto and in 1996 at Shepperd's Bush, here in London. Absolutely a must see.
10. Benfica - 0. National
Forgive me, but I had to mention this.
tags: Brighton, london, music, Nuno Bento, review, Tears For Fears
nit.pt/opiniao/tears-for-fears-brighton-cronica-jornada-frenetica
Tears For Fears in Brighton: the chronicle of a frantic journey
Much more than a critique of a concert, this is a love letter to Tears For Fears
11/02/2019 at 10:25
Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith, seen from the front row
text
Nuno Bento
photography
Nuno Bento
source: NiT
This is much more than a mere chronicle of a concert. It's a love letter to Tears For Fears, the band that taught me that there was no harm in expressing my emotions. It's a chronicle of a frenzied journey between London, Brighton and Esher, which involved a Tears For Fears concert in the grids, floods, death threats, signed posters, setlists, reeds, posters, smiles exchanged with Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith and the bonus of talking to me on the microphone DURING THE CONCERT (sorry for the caps lock, it's still emotion).
Oh and all this while work and everyday life were going on normally. Long days last a hundred years. This journey will last a lifetime. This is the chronicle of how a band can make a living.
1. The Bible Of Dreams - The Dream Of A Life
One of the dreams of my entire adult life has always been to see Tears For Fears live. As a teenager, the Bath band played the role of psychologist. It was their music that taught me that there was no harm in expressing my emotions (in spite of my sins, according to my mother). Since that time the TFF have been the most consistent band in my entire life, even more so than the "giants" Queen and Pink Floyd, which I usually point out as my favorite bands but who have a much more seasonal presence in my everyday life , when compared to TFF.
Over the years, I waited patiently for them to come to Portugal. Every spring he crossed his fingers for Covones, Roberta, or Montez to remember them and bring them to their festivals. Before the time of Facebook, I spent the days refreshing the page of Blitz, always in fleas for the new confirmations for the festivals. But it was never the Tears For Fears. Either they did not come to Europe, or they did, they invariably escaped our circuit.
In 2005, at a time when I was coaching and barely had money to go to the Coast, I planned a trip to London to see the TFF Hammersmith Odeon. My savings of € 200 laughed. I did not go. I ended up with this money going to Madrid to see the (at the time ultra-exciting) return of the "Queen" with Paul Rodgers, in an epic bus journey that is yet to be counted.
In 2016, to live a low in my life and tired of waiting for the TFF to come to me, I decided to go to them. I then planned a lightning trip to the United States, to go see the historic Red Rocks in Colorado (tell me if the poster is not a marvel). But it was not a cheap adventure, and even with a few more changes in my wallet, my savings started laughing again. And I did not go again. I ended up going to London with David Gilmour at the Royal Albert Hall (history here), at what remains to this day his last concert in his own name. But the Tears For Fears were always missing.
It was for that reason without doubting that when in the autumn of 2017 the Tears For Fears set a date for the legendary Royal Albert Hall (note this trend, always the same places to appear cyclically), I marked Lisbon ticket and trip. It was a glorious night, unforgettable, perfect, the best ever; all superlatives apply (and were at the time documented here at NiT). Curiously, tonight also marked the end of a cycle, as it turned out to be my last touring trip to London, before I moved here.
Ruling the world at Royal Albert Hall! At last last, Tears For fucking Fears!
Posted by Nuno Bento on Friday, October 27, 2017
A year ago came an opportunity, those that we immediately realize that only appear once in a lifetime. On a sleepless night, I went to check out the tickets for the 2019 Tears For Fears tour. This tour was to have happened a year ago (and I had no ticket), but in the meantime Roland Orzabal's wife died of cancer and threw him into a depression that prevented the release of the new TFF album and did postpone the tour one year . With this postponement, many asked for the money back and with that they released some luxury places. Places like what appeared to me IN THE FIRST ROW in Brighton (there I am with the Caps Lock) and looked down from the heavens, right on my lap. I did not want to believe it. After thanking Freddie, George and my other little angels, I marked the place without blinking. And without thinking the concert was in Brighton on a Monday.
2. The Working Hour - a day of unusual work
It had everything programmed in detail. He left London in the morning and went to Esher to work as usual. At 4:00, if the day went off exceptionally well and there was no problem solving the Battersea Power Station's work, I'd grab things and put me on the train on the way to Brighton. With time well told, it was there at the time of opening doors.
Do not start laughing anymore. It's just that I had to be there at the time of opening doors. This is because normally Roland and Curt signed some 25 posters of the tour and only the first ones to arrive at the venue were that they grabbed them. Nothing could fail, with the risk of not passing one of the testimonies of this tight rush of messengers and going all the way down. And speaking of water. The day was running as normally as possible on a Monday, when at one o'clock they called me from Foxtons (the agency where I rented my house in London) and they told me that there was water in the apartment of the neighbor of low. This meant that there could be a flood in my house. Fucking hell. It was really the day for a tragedy like this.
My people. There's something you need to know about me. I am a very zealous guy with his belongings. And obsessive-compulsive when it comes to your collection of vinyl records. When I brought my entire collection of a thousand records to London (there are two thousand of them today), I was sure that they were fine with me. To think that some damned broken pipe had ruined years of work and passion, left me in a state of panic and inner corrosion that is difficult to explain here. I described the situation to my boss as the catastrophe that it was. And he who already knows me enough to know the importance of my records, released me, "but only after doing your timesheets!" He says. These Englishmen are the rules whores. When I had done my homework, I was on my way home, fearing the worst.
Arrived home, there were no signs of water on the floor. Relief. The broken pipe was pouring into the downstairs apartment, but mine was apparently safe. At least to my neighbors upstairs - a very playful Germanic couple - returning to their Saturday night banter in the bath. But ahead.
Now it was time to put the initial plan back on the rails. Pajama in the suitcase and head to Victoria, to catch the train heading south. Just outside Victoria Station is one of my favorite images of London: the Battersea Power Station seen behind the Pimlico train park, before the Grosvenor Bridge. All the difficulties seemed to have lagged behind. Now it was just smooth sailing.
3. I Believe - Before the Concert
I arrived in Brighton under the classic British weather - the showers. As the name implies, I took a bath on the way to the venue and so I arrived at the Brighton Center all drenched. But just in time for what I wanted. I was one of the first to come and I could have the merch stand just for me and yes, the signed posters were there. But balls, 50 £ ?! It was only 15 of them, so I had to decide quickly. Anyway, this one day are not days. In addition to the much-desired signed poster, I also brought some Seeds Of Love socks that are my new passion.
Sowing the Seeds Of Love 🌞😍
Posted by London Calling NiTfm on Sunday, February 10, 2019
It was then time to schedule the next step. Once I had a ticket for the front row, I thought I'd bring a poster for the first time to a concert. But what could I ask of the boys? The first thing that came to my mind was to ask to play my favorite theme of the Tears For Fears - the most outrageous "Raoul And The Kings Of Spain". But this had two snags: first, I know the band and I know it was not because I asked the subject that they would play it, not being rehearsed; and then it's a Roland-a-solo theme of the TFF's and I knew I'd have Curt right in front of me. So I decided on the second-best-thing:
Yes, that's how they read it - I wanted to sing the verse from "Shout." For those who do not remember, it's that part: "in violent times, you should not have to sell your soul." Theoretically, my plan had everything to go right. I knew it was the last song on the set and I knew that Roland used to lend the microphone to the audience to sing the chorus. When I went to see them at the Royal Albert Hall in 2017, I saw Roland let a guy sing part of the verse and, astonished, he did not know the lyrics. But I knew it and was going to show it to Roland, "I Believe." Head to the main hall of the Brighton Center.
Before the strong plate of the night, Allison Moyet to open. And what a beautiful surprise. Between the hits of Yazoo and her solo career, the former lead singer of the synthpop duo (who formed with hitmaker Vince Clarke when it left the Depeche Mode) was a revelation.
Looking around me, I realize that I am an alien in there. Not only am I the only foreigner in the room, I am also the only one under 35. Also height to put something in the stomach, I had spent all day just with a toast at 8 in the morning. Then get two pints, that the Tears For Fears are just coming.
4. Head Over Heels - The Concert of a Life I
I have talked over and over again in this space about the excellence of the Tears For Fears. But for those who have not yet read the memo, here's one more time: Tears For Fears were the best band of the 80's. Period. Where The Smiths have the "Hatful of Hollow", the TFF have "The Hurting"; where The Cure has Disintegration, TFF have "The Seeds Of Love"; where the U2 have "The Joshua Tree", the TFF have "Songs From The Big Chair". They are the most complete band of all that have left this decade.
The biggest compliment that can be made to the TFF is that they are a band that has aged well. They are a band that had success in years 80, but its pallet sonorous is much wider than that decade. The Tears For Fears record arc is nothing short of perfect (also because the boys have always had the gift of noticing when to stop). Each album is an independent island, which lives by itself and is only linked to the others by mere questions of language. It is Roland himself who confesses that "to build something new we must first destroy what exists; to create, we must kill. " The discography of the TFF is so perfect that you just want to hug and sleep with it, so that you can marry in the morning. But why complicate a relationship that is already so perfect?
As a result, the Tears For Fears estate is not very extensive (especially for a band that was born almost 40 years ago), but clinically accurate. Any iteration of your repertoire would give a solid setlist. When this is built around the hits of the band, there is no way to fail. The set was therefore a hit after hit ride, with precious deep cuts down the middle. There are so many successes that the Tears For Fears have the luxury to start with "Everybody Wants To Rule The World", only the most scrobbled theme in Spotify.
It follows the enthralling "Secret World", a theme of very special meaning, where the boys show the symbiosis that illustrates why the Tears For Fears magic needs their presence. I did not take too many videos this evening as I was trying to absorb as much as I could. But I show you my favorite video of Brighton, with the boys in perfect harmony in "Secret World":
The discussion of the importance of parties in Tears For Fears is old. There's a large fan base that sees Roland alone as the Tears For Fears. And it's easy to see why. Roland is the forgotten genius of the 80's. His image was not as iconic as Morrissey, not as dark as Robert Smith and (definitely) not as attractive as Simon Le Bon's. Roland has always been the anticool prototype. But that never bothered me. That was never his call. There is an unspeakable animal magnetism in Roland Orzabal, one of the most dense and enigmatic characters in music.
At Tears For Fears, Roland was almost everything. It was he who wrote most of the song, sang most of the songs and yet, when it came time to pick the singles, they were invariably for Curt. Because the truth is it was Curt who sold the Tears For Fears.
One Day The Wham Andrew Ridgeley! (look who) said the Tears For Fears were "all about Curt". And indeed it was Curt who figured on the Bravo covers; it was Curt who appeared at parties with Morrissey; it was Curt who was friends with Phil Collins (and who took him to be plagued by Roland in the sessions of the album "The Seeds Of Love"). Even though it was not the source of the song, it was all about Curt Smith. (Note, do not underestimate Mr. Andrew Ridgeley, he may have little or no musical talent, but he is a millionaire who made his fortune at the expense of a career in music ... without musical talent.)
Curt was impeccable and those who say they do not need the Tears For Fears need to see with their own eyes the performance of such themes as the epic "Badman's Song". As usual, the 10-minute classic was the highlight of the show. Here are the boys on a jam on "Badman's Song":
Andrew Ridgeley was right. There is indeed something special about Curt Smith. It has an air both affable and impeccable, which make it an unshakable machine of coolness. He is the aileron of the Tears For Fears. Having him there with me, at arm's length, sending that broken-down "Broken" line down and even making eye contact with me every two minutes, (sighing) would leave me melting as if was a teenage fan looking at Bravo's cover. It did not even look real.
5. Memories Fade - The Concert of a Life II
Memories came back from one night in 2011, when on another (epic) journey, I crossed the Nevada desert in record time, only to catch Curt Smith live in Los Angeles in a room that had a maximum of 50 people. In the end we talked for a long time about how he did not know if the Tears For Fears were going to record again, how he loved Portugal and how passionate he was for Cristiano Ronaldo's football. I discovered that Curt was a fervent Manchester United fan and there was "Head Over Heels" for Jose Mourinho to take charge of his heart team. "Careful what you wish for", I already did the English saying. Years later, his "Advice" would be fulfilled, but "I Believe" that after a Year Of The Knife in Manchester, everything turned into "The Hurting". This is only the fans who have realized. Forward.
And speaking of "The Hurting," at the introduction of "Mad World," Curt asked the audience who was a TFF fan since then. 1983, therefore. And I, who was right there beside him, answered that I had not yet been born. I want to remember here that I was in the front row. I do not know if I said that. Incidentally, before I started the concert, I had risen from the front row to lean against the bars, were it not for some smart guy to cover the field of vision. But returning to Curt, he heard and answered NO MICROPHONE "there is someone here who is very excited about being born yet. God, I'm old. "Fucking hell. Talk about contact with your idols.
Of course the contact I was really looking forward to was letting me sing a little of the "Shout". I knew that Roland had let the audience sing at all the concerts so far, so there was no reason why my plan did not work out. Except that something had happened in Encore Break. The band was having some technical problems. Nothing that was noticeable from where I was listening, except when the boys inadvertently switched from microphones to "Mad World," and Roland's backing vocals overcame Curt's vocal lead, which seemed to amuse Roland.
Roland was visibly hammered throughout the concert. And according to the information that I get from the Facebook groups, it has been so the whole tour. It's hard to see what will happen in your head after your wife's death. Roland revealed to the Evening Standard that he hit bottom last year and it took a long time to get out of the hole. Its transformation since the Royal Albert Hall show is evident. Roland is older, more crude, more animal. But with the same pain and power as ever in the voice. I hope you have cared for sorrows in songs that we can hear in the future. As it is - "Please Be Happy" - which he shared in July 2017, when his wife died and almost no one heard.
Roland's recovery process delayed the tour last year and it is not known that more damage has brought the Tears For Fears. The new album - "Tipping Point" - was announced by the band in 2013, but we are already in 2019 and there is no sign that its release is near. Judging by the new merchandising, the artwork should be this - has the name of the album changed to "Dancing Gramophone" ?! - everything else is unknown.
Never ends the drama in the TFF. I remember that the tour was once again in danger a month ago when Curt Smith started posting cryptic messages on Twitter, implying that he had abandoned the Tears For Fears. This turned out to be (certainly not inadvertently, that Roland is a very smart guy) in an interview a few weeks ago, when he confessed to the Irish Examiner himself.
When you take a picture of Roland and he glares at the camera 😍 #tearsforfears Tears for Fears Roland Orzabal #rolandorzabal #tearsforfearsmusic
Posted by Nuno Bento on Tuesday, February 5, 2019
This digression did not bring much news, to the despair of the fans (my desperation is that they still do not play "Raoul", but that's me). The great novelty of the tour ended up appearing in, guess what, Brighton. It was the first performance of "Suffer The Children" since 1983. The forums went into hysteria, far more than the present ones, it is said. I loved it. But you know, I was more in fleas for Encore.
6. Shout - The Encore
Chance of chance. At the entrance to the encore, the band did not seem very pleased. Curt arrived, grabbed the microphone, and as he spoke of the "fucking technical issues" the band had had with the microphones, Roland went to the other end of the stage. Something was not going well.
I knew that "Shout" was going to close the encore, so I finally drew from my poster: "PLEASE LET ME SING THE VERSE OF SHOUT". Curt saw, laughed at me and warned Roland - "Hey, looks like someone here wants to sing the" Shout "! But then Curt looked at me and remembered - "but we're not going to Shout" now. And they did not. But you'll see.
But in this, Roland, who was on the other side of the stage with his back to Curt (and me), oblivious to what was happening, did not notice and ordered the keyboardist to start the drum loop of "Shout". And then accelerated to the faster version of "Shout" of this tour. For the first and only time, Roland did not go to the public and so, patience, my wish was not satisfied. It was not until he was saying good-bye that Roland noticed the poster and laughed at me. Hey, it's something. And yes, I know, this sounds like the story of a teenage fan. It's not, but I think they've figured out what it's like.
After the departure of the band from the stage, time to ask some goodies to the roadies of the band. I was the first to ask the setlist (oh no!) To Roland's roadie and after ignoring me a few times, he gave me the one that was in Curt's microphone. Notice the encore that was planned.
See? Curt was right - the setlist showed that the band was going to do their classic cover of "Creep" and then, finally, "Shout". Anyway, my nabice that I did not pull the poster sooner. Did you notice that pick there in the middle of the setlist? Oh, right. Not content with the setlist, I spent a few more minutes making the poor roadie's head to give me Roland's reed. And believe me, I can be very annoying in these things. He gave in and when I see her I do not laugh. CLEAR Roland was going to play with a palette with his own face. It could only be his. More narcissistic than this, it is impossible. No wonder Curt called him Sun King.
With the suitcase full of gifts and a tear-stained smile on my face, I left the Brighton Center levitating with the feeling of extra-bodied experience. To have Roland and Curt playing next to me did not seem real. It still does not seem real when I think about it. It was all worth it. And so ended an epic journey of strong emotions. I was thinking.
Nothing more false.
7. Swords And Knives - After The Concert
I really wanted to be able to call this chapter "Goodnight Song", a comforting theme from the "Elemental" album, perfect for listening at the time of the walk. But my sleep experience in Brighton was more of "Swords And Knives".
First of all, let me explain (and defend) my reasoning. I had already spent a lot of money on the ticket for the concert (the first row of a concert like the Tears For Fears here in the UK is no joke); plus the train trip, which is another blow in this country; plus the batch of the signed poster. The trip was already very expensive. Now, since he knew he had to catch the train to Esher very early the next day, he would only be able to sleep for four to five hours. It was not worth marking a room and spending another torrent of money. Solution? A bed in a hostel. Nice idea.
Things at the hostel did not start well. The photos showed a room for 4 people, but after all my reservation was for a 6 person room. Anyway, I'm sleepy. Reached the room, total darkness. And that smell of air-conditioned subway stopped in the middle of a 40-degree tunnel. To see where my feet were, I turned on the flashlight on my cell phone and realized that all the bunks were occupied, except for the floor above one of them. It was my bed.
As I approach, a downcast "Vinnie Jones" comes out to me (I'm going to reproduce in English) - "YOU FUCKING f*ck! It's 11:30! Do you think this is a time to enter the room and slam the fucking door? You woke me up! ". Of the other beds, not a peep. I, obviously intimidated by the 16-by-9 format, my partner's PAL-PLUS screen, I say - "I did not slam the door, it just closed automatically".
But he was not very pleased with my answer, or, I would say, not even with the fact that I dared answer him. And then he goes one more step and puts his nose to mine, which player of the ball, and shoots - "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU! You're saying that was not a slam ?! Maybe you wanna show me the slam now, do you? Do you wanna slam the door on my face, you fucking f*ck? "
Well, that escalated quickly. At this point, as you must understand, it was a victory just because I kept my underwear intact and my legs stiff. I even ventured to brush my teeth to the bathroom (more noise to our friend Vinnie Jones' delight), but when I came back and heard him cursing into a language I could not even decipher, I realized that I had to knock withdrawal. It's just that I was going to sleep over Vinnie Jones. Or rather, he was not going to sleep, because it would be impossible to sleep in those conditions. I grabbed the bundle and went to the front desk to explain what had happened.
Result? They gave me a room just for me. In your face, "Vinnie Jones". And they still promised me that they would ban him forever from the chair of hostels. Good thing I was leaving the hotel at 5 am, otherwise I still risked having my friend "Vinnie" get my clothes on. But let's also agree that when a guy dares to pay £ 17 for a night in Brighton, it must be the best things that can happen.
And all this was only a Monday.
8. Break It Down Again - The Next Day
When I arrived at Brighton Station, I still had about 20 minutes left for my train. It was the first of three trains that would take me to Esher (where I work), in another ticker race where any failure would result in a disaster of epic proportions (okay, it was just getting late to work, but the English are very picky about it of hours). I went to get one of those great cafes, suitable for the long day that came.
At the announcement of the platform, 5 minutes before departure, I headed towards the train, but was intercepted by a reviewer - "Show me your ticket, please". There I showed. "I'm sorry Sir. This is not a valid ticket. This is only for off-peak trains. " Hi? Off-peak trains? My friend, this is 5 in the morning. Okay, it's almost 6, but 6 in the morning is it rush hour? "Yes, you must go to the Travel Center and pay the excess." But it was only three minutes before the start of the train. This realization made me spill the coffee upon me. I ran as I tried to wipe the milk with coffee from my coat. The excess of a £ 35 ticket was "only" £ 21. I even blushed. Another race and I was able to catch the train to the signal of the pipipi of the doors. The first step was safa.
The first passage of testimony was in East Croydon and there were only 4 minutes difference between the arrival of one and the departure of the other. And how could it not be, the Brighton train was delayed ... 4 minutes. I left the train exhausted, and between climbing stairs, running and descending stairs, I must have made a record of 20 seconds and 3 people run over. Once again after the pipipi, I threw myself into a carriage full of East Croydonians who did not find much joke in the joke.
The second witnessing passage was at Clapham Junction and then yes, it was all smooth sailing. I mean, it was quiet because I did not get any pica, because in fact I only paid off-peak excess and not the excess for the link up to Esher. It was the end of crazy 24 hours, of which I am still recovering now.
By the time I finish writing this text, it's been five days since the concert and looking back, everything was so fast that the sensation is that it was all a dream. A good dream. From those who do not feel like waking up and when the damn alarm rings, we put the snooze to try to get back to where we were. It did not look and still does not seem real. And just like in the 2017 concert, I came back to feel that everything went too fast. It is the mystery of time, which makes good moments seem so short and then stretches them in memory for all eternity.
9. Mother's Talk - P.S.
This week my mother called me with bad news. After listening to London Calling this week - my radio program on NiTfm, if they do not know it, they are losing it - he told me: "You expose yourself too much! All that talk that music changed your life and I do not know what. You expose yourself too much! "Oh Mother, it is Roland and Curt's fault. Talk to them.
Speaking of London Calling, do not forget to follow the Facebook page and of course, listen to this week's show "Shows From the Big Chair", dedicated to Tears For Fears. Since I did not have time to prepare the program in the usual way, this week's program is the first one ever to be recorded in its entirety on the spur of the moment.
The idea was to tell the epic story of the last 24 hours and intersperse it with some of Tears For Fears' best live performances. But as always happens when I start telling my stories (ask my trainees), I ended up getting excited and having to interrupt the program when it was practically an hour and a half. The show has performances in 1983 on John Peel's show for the BBC, in 1985 at Massey Hall in Toronto and in 1996 at Shepperd's Bush, here in London. Absolutely a must see.
10. Benfica - 0. National
Forgive me, but I had to mention this.
tags: Brighton, london, music, Nuno Bento, review, Tears For Fears