Matty Hill takes us on a nostalgia trip as he recalls his recent pilgrimage to see Ben Howard in London.
Energised by his Ploughman’s lunch, Ben Howard arrived onto the stage at the Apollo with the quiet confidence of a man who didn’t have Kettle sea salt and balsamic vinegar crumbs reluctantly clinging to his stubble. A sold-out tour to mark the 10-year anniversary of his second album I Forget Where We Were. Ben’s Hollister-clad disciples were already bleary eyed, hungry for a night of nostalgia. He started the show in the way most of us remember him best: on his own, under the spotlight, acoustic guitar in hand. He opened up with my favourite song of his End of the Affair, somehow managing to convey the same pain and earnestness in his voice as the recording, even 10 years on from the breakup it was written about. After five sombre minutes alone on stage, the rest of the band came to join him, and a murmur of excitement spread through the crowd as Conrad began to play. Rimless caps were slightly dislodged to reveal discordant hairlines, copies of craft-beer magazines were ruffled in pockets, and high-top timberland toes were tapped against the sticky floor.
I Forget Where We Were is just a classic lover’s album, and because of this the crowd had kindly taken it upon themselves to split up into sections, based upon their relationship status. The recent couples had given themselves priority standing, as well as the newlyweds. Next came the strained relationships, the taking-each-other-for-granted’s, and the office party shouldn’t-have-kissed-hers. Right at the back were the close friendship groups, out down the corridors were the colleagues, then past the bins, round the corner and after security stood my sister and I, surrounded by sound engineers – poor fellas.
Ben Howard’s voice was incredible, one of the best I’ve ever heard live. So good I was half convinced he was lip-syncing along to the recordings. His nine-strong band all tried their hand at multiple instruments, with India Bourne deserving a special mention for her incredible backing vocals, cello, and piano playing. A strong variation in styles between songs, accompanied by a beautiful light show created a lovely experience. The sound was faultless, and the band put many an exciting live take on some of the slower songs from the album, improvising seamlessly. After the end of the final song, I Forget Where We Were, the quiet idea of an encore politely made its way around the venue. Rounds of “Oh please Ben, it’d been awfully nice of you.” were chanted by the newlywed section, until eventually Ben obliged.
The excellent support act Billie Marten joined the band for the final two songs. Camomile teas were passed around the front rows and babysitters were texted to say they’d have to stay a little longer as Ben closed out with the two remaining songs from the album. Wearing happy smiles, the crowds of millennials flooded into the Hammersmith night, energised despite the clocks showing 22.30. Their eyes glazed with fond thoughts of 2014, thanks to one pasty Cornish* man. The delightful sounds he put together had reminded this group of 30-somethings of summers spent on the beach; Thatcher’s Gold in hand and salty wind through heads of hair that didn’t yet resemble one of the fifty shades, long before their moves to the big city.
*yes, I know he’s from Devon, but the joke doesn’t work otherwise
Matty Hill
Edited by Alice Beard
Official I Forget Where We Were LP cover courtesy of Ben Howard, Video courtesy of Ben Howard on Youtube
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