A Love Letter To Live Music

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Spector // The Bullingdon Club, Oxford, 2019 – Lily Herd

This is the scene: the Bullingdon is small, and everyone is trying to get as close to the front as possible, drawn in by the current. There seem to be a hundred members of Spector, crammed onto the stage like a pan bubbling over; it’s just very intimate

It was like we were all extensions of one another, one electric mass; if you bumped into somebody, you’d probably just connect with them. Hands and arms might as well have been magnets attracting, pulled together by sheer reverent energy. 

Despite this—limbs, bodies—it wasn’t messy. In fact, it was one of the tightest, coolest evenings. Everything happened exactly when it should have done, their new music was as nostalgic as their early stuff, and there were probably people in the audience trying to memorise Fred’s effortlessly cool chat for the Bridge smoking area later that week. 

The room was charged, crackling with electricity. The magnetism was only getting stronger, drawn to each other, drawn to the stage. We powered one another on that dark night in Oxford: plugged in. As another high-pressure term was winding down, Spector switched us all back on. 

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