I went to see Take That last Saturday night. There, eight words I never thought I’d write.
Let me start with a little context… I’ve been brought up on rock and heavy rock, with a bit of new romantic and boogie woogie chucked in for good measure. When I go to a gig it’s to see, say, AC/DC, Jethro Tull, ZZ Top, Cinderella, Bryan Adams, Jools Holland, OMD. Y’see, I’m not just a rocker, I’m an old rocker. A good song is one that grabs you by the balls from the first bar and doesn’t let you go until the final chord has faded. One thing I swore never to do was go and see a boy band. Well, a man band as this particular one is these days.
So, it was with some trepidation and few (positive) expectations that I went to see Take That at the O2 Arena, having bought tickets for Clare as a Christmas present. I mean, I like the odd Take That song for sure but on the whole, let’s face it: they’re just not my sort of music.
What I did expect was screaming and yes, there was some but I guess age has taken the hysterical edge from it and the demographic of a Take That fan has shifted… a very good number has grown up with them and while they may still want Gary Barlow’s babies, they don’t tend to announce it to the O2 audience and in front of their husbands.
I expected it to be a bit naff. Y’know; three men trying to cling on to the glory days of yesteryear, that sort of thing. During the rest of my life, I will have to fight hard to exceed the error in that assumption.
I’m well used to quality spectacles in arenas… ZZ Top at Milton Keynes stands out and to be fair on him, Robbie Williams at Wembley last year was terrific. David Lee Roth was a brilliant showman. I could go on.
Take That completely blew every other live act I’ve ever seen completely out of the water.
This was no mere gig or concert; it was an event. It was theatre, a spectacular for the eyes and ears in which you submerge from the moment the first dancer appears to the last echoes of the encore applause. Yep, I was swept away. The opening sequence was mesmerising, the opening number was performed in an orgy of colour and light.
It was flawless in every aspect and it didn’t let up for two hours.
There were several things that struck me. The show, which was put together in three acts, if you like, was incredibly tight, well-rehearsed and fantastically creative. Sure, the band have a musical director, an artistic director and so forth but the beating heart of it all is Barlow, Owen and Donald, men who, among other things, know how to write a tune and how to hold it live. The attention to detail was extraordinary; the innovations in costume, staging and effects enhanced but never overwhelmed; and the interactions between band and dancers, band and audience, dancers and audience, were genuine and warm.
The energy, passion and sheer love that had been poured into the production shone out and it was clear that every singer dancer and musician utterly loved it. Unsurprisingly, the audience felt the same way. This was not a ‘Hey look at us, we’re Take That’, show, more of a, ‘We’re Take That (or as they put it, ‘what’s left of Take That’) gorge yourselves on the show’, show. It wasn’t, in the modern vernacular, all about them.
From new material to old favourites played the original way (and with the original dance moves which showed a charming awareness of the present while nodding respect at the past), this was an event to savour and it was as far from a famous band banging out a few songs as it’s possible to get.
They’ve been going, on and off, for almost twenty five years now, so they should know a thing or two about how to put on a show but this took arena concerts to a completely different level. I know not everyone can play arenas but for those super-groups who can, here is your benchmark.
I still wouldn’t class myself as a Take That fan necessarily but I’ll tell you this: I’ve changed my tune about them and next time they tour, I’ll be first in the queue. Does that mean I’m mellowing? Possibly except the track I’m listening to right now is Steve Earle’s ‘Copperhead Road’ so maybe not so much. Does it mean I’m having a mid-life crisis? Well, maybe but if so, bring it on.