A TVTA Special
Presenting: a gallery of seven inch vinyl records spanning the 1970s, 80s and 90s, direct from the collection of TVTA.
Place de la République. 29 July 2019.
It’s only taken me thirty odd years to see the wonderful Kim Wilde and her band play live in concert, and she came right to my front door… okay, it was a five minute walk to the stage from where I live, but how much closer can you get to seeing an international pop-rock superstar without needing to take the car or public transport?
When I learned some weeks back that Kim Wilde and her band was going to play a free outdoor concert in town, I couldn’t quite believe it. I cleared out my schedule for that evening and made sure the trusty TVTA camera would be charged and ready to document the event.
Finally that night came, and I arrived early to get as close to the stage as possible, passing the time for the band to come onstage by chatting with Steve, a French megafan of Kim’s, who filled me in on the five albums she’d made since her success in the 80s and early 90s when I first bought some of her singles, an album, and bopped along to her music on the radio. I confess right now, I haven’t listened to Kim in a long while, but that’s going to change thanks to the incredible show I witnessed tonight. There’s her last album for starters – 2018’s Here Come the Aliens, then an upcoming live album (her first) which Kim announced on stage she was going to release.
Onto the show… I’ve seen some fantastic concerts by amazing bands over the years. After tonight, Kim Wilde and her band now rank among the best of them. With a near two hour performance including many of her seemingly endless 80s hits, and a barrage of her newer songs, plus many in between, there wasn’t a single moment when the energy dropped or the foot came off the pedal. How refreshing to see an artist and band enjoying themselves to the absolute limit. As an eight piece line-up which includes Kim, two guitars, bass, keyboards, a backing vocalist/dancer, and two (yes that’s two!) drummers, there was plenty to watch and admire from a band who were quite evidently having the time of their lives.
Top marks to Kim and guitarist/songwriter – her brother Ricky Wilde, for assembling across the years such a talented and enthusiastic troupe, who not only played magnificently but performed magnificently. Top marks must also go to the sound and lighting engineers. And Kim, ever humble and sweet, sincerely thanking and merci beaucoup-ing the crowd in between each and every number. In her own words: “Thank you so much for coming to see us on this beautiful summer night in the South of France, this is just so beautiful. Thank you. Merci beaucoup!”
Beautiful. I couldn’t agree more. Kudos and spaceships and love to Kim and her band and crew, and thank you for bringing a bit of rock, pop and magic to this little city in the South of France.
Going through my French 45 RPM collection this morning I came across this 🙂
Words and photographs by the editor. ©TVTA. 2019.
“A life without music is a solitary trek along a darkened path trod souless and bare. Let music be your joy, your comfort, your inspiration. Sing, dance and play upon your journeys. Let music be your lantern.”
“And if these are my final words I will attempt to sing them in tune; to draw sweet harmony with the divine muse. To celebrate you. Embrace you. Love you. Praise your sweet gift of music bestowed, here, there, now, onwards, and over the very next hill.”
Thank you for joining us. Dedicated to music, friends, family, loved ones, Madonna, and Primus in all suckiness 🙂
There I was, propped up in bed, a thousand thoughts forming
in the holiday of my head, mask off, headphones on, YouTube,
streaming, dreaming, coming to terms with a recently-deceased aunt
who had trouble breathing. Yes I loved her so, she helped me find sense
in the mess of teenage years, she gave me shelter from the helter
and the skelter of life’s tests, used to tell me: follow your dreams.
Loved her, loved her so, even though she voted Leave.
She’ll never know I’m that close to needing a visa to attend her funeral
in ruled Britannia, God save the Titanic, and all who sink with her.
On the bed was where I met them, mask off, headphones on,
finding sense in a present tense, correct, this is why, this is why
you never see your father cry. Council flats and country piles,
apartments in France – renewed my passport before it turned the blue
they want to make us feel, and act and march in their same shoes.
This is why, this is why, my heart swells with pride, not theirs but mine.
Idles your Colossus is a bridge between my republic and my septic isle,
septic minds, this is why, I point to freedom which is mine,
which is yours, which is ours, it’s called sharing, and it rhymes with caring.
Gone past caring? Don’t give up. Don’t stay down. Get back up.
There I was, propped up on the bed, time for a tea and something on bread.
And there they were, my family, watching The Voice on French TV,
Happily yabbering away in French, and me, in English, bemoaning the lack
of decent tea bags, and the way in which no matter how hard you always work
you’re still broke by the end of the month. Back and forth in two languages,
add Frenglish, Brummie accents, mais, ne t’inquiète pas, pas de problème,
je parle français, oui, avec un accent merdique, c’est pour ça,
c’est pour ça, mon clavier est AZERTY et pas QWERTY.
And this is why, this is why, I love myself and always try
to send the love and give the light, to cry when I like and fight the good fight.
Your tee-shirt, it said: Voltaire. I noticed you wearing it the other day,
got me thinking it did, that tee-shirt, and slogans in general,
Choose Life, Frankie Says, Make Love Not War, #MeToo #Remain, Idles on Tour.
Fudge-packing Crack-smoking Satan-worshipping motherfucker Nirvana,
that I wore on my back in days when my aunty wasn’t a Brexiter.
Wouldn’t mind now: Fairy Remoaning Snowflake Traitor Enemy of the People…
see their faces when I tell them I don’t like barriers, and I dream in European.
Poem by the editor. Thanks to Idles.