I attended a Harry Styles concert this week. I didn't have a daughter in tow, I went by myself as it was my 59th birthday and wanted to treat myself. I came away feeling a bit like David Attenborough going into the jungle for the first time, and being surprised by what I found. Harry is a very handsome man, good singer, with a penchant for dungarees which gives him the feel of an Andy Pandy with sparkles. In this case, loads of sparkling hearts. He bounced about the stage like a tigger, engaged and cared for the audience - on my night helping a girl to 'come out', and someone needed water in the audience. Everything was very well orchestrated. The musicians were on point, sufficiently trendy, cool or whatever the word is for trendy and cool at the moment, and the warm up bands - Mila Diaz (I think) who was like an Alannis Morisette both in style and lyrics (talking break ups) and Wet Leg who everyone seemed to know. They were across between Bjork and Coldplay. Really liked them, but boy the lyrics. And then Harry who was on for two hours, with four encore tracks. But it wasn't him that blew my mind, it was the audience.
They screamed. They sang verbatim to the warm up songs (Angels Robbie Williams, Bohemian Rhapsody Queen) and knew every single word of every single one of Harry's tracks. Sometimes I was unable to hear him because the audience of 80,000 strong women, many of whom I am told will attend two or three times this week at Wembley, were screaming so much. Think Elvis Presley/Beatles/Donny Osmond fans. Wet Leg did a screaming song before hand and the audience showed they had lungs on them.
Very pleased I went. If anyone wants a good scream and not feel alone. Wants a powerful DGF vibe - go see Harry. Just take the boas, cowboy hats and sequins, and if you are one of the few blokes there, go as they did, dress as a banana. Lots of banana blokes there.
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