2nd July 2005. I had been living in London for almost a year, and my girlfriend was coming over from Dublin to join me. That year has been one of transition and although I was a Londonophile, I learnt quickly that working there was different to visiting there. I hadn’t taken the time, nor had the time, to get to be comfortable with the place. I had also failed to get tickets for Live 8, but that didn’t matter – we already had tickets for Elvis Costello that night in Kenwood House on Hampstead Heath.
For fun the two of us went down to Marble Arch that morning and watched the crowds drifting in. Listened outside to Macca & U2 and some Coldplay before wandering off into central London.
Discovered Marylebone High Street for the first time and ended up in Regents Park watching the show on the big screen. My wonky geography meant we ended up over near Swiss Cottage thinking it would be close enough for the Costello gig (pre-smart phone days, no Google maps in the pocket). A taxi got us there.
Even though I had been living in a 1970s style flat in Islington, I had never gone near the Heath. It was wonderful to visit it for the first time, although the second row tickets were lessened somewhat by Elvis being on the other side of a lake.
During the show I mentioned “we’re missing Pink Floyd” but guessed it would be on again. Costello was great, even the Brodsky Quartet turned up. We took a taxi afterwards back to Islington. “This place is nice” I thought, as I went through Highgate for the first time.
Sitting in the pub, it was approaching closing time but it became obvious from their TV that Live 8 was running late, and that The Floyd were yet to take the stage. We ran down the street back to the flat and I had the telly on in time to hear the opening of Breathe.
I still think it’s the greatest, most perfect reunion, in spite of one or two wobbly moments. They said it would never happen, but it happened, and it’s wonderful. The Floyd story would be incomplete without this day. Whenever I watch the footage, it brings me right back to that day. I like to remember this as the day when I felt like a Londoner for the first time. And readers, I married her.
10 years ago today – Married my ex wife.
Within 3 months, I found out that she was an aggressive, violent drunk.
I started divorce proceedings the week of our second wedding anniversary.
I couldn’t get away fast enough.
There really is no fool like an old fool,
(especially when i used to think with what was between my legs, not between my ears…)
I was probably sitting a few feet away from @drj at Kenwood. Rushed back to mates after the gig to catch Floyd. It was emotional
The Floyd saved Live8 from complete pointlessness. It would otherwise be remembered for Macca letting U2 pretend to be the Beatles and junkie Doherty poncing onstage with a lighter in his mouth and singing like a cross between Ian Brown and Marge Simpson. Oh, and the fragrant Dido of course.
Happy Ann, J.
I do remember watching it, but apart from the Macca opening, and The Who & Pink Floyd sets, the rest of it was pretty forgettable.
Live8 had the film insert with Will Smith, George Clooney, Bono (and loads of others that I can’t remember) saying: “Every time I click my fingers a child in Africa dies of starvation”.
I very much doubt I’m alone in this, but my immediate reaction was “Stop clicking your fingers then”
Ten years ago? I remember that I was out for a curry with friends that night, and although we went to a pub afterwards we stayed in the beer garden during Floyd’s set as it was mild. Being a fan I always meant to watch it some time but, as usually happens with these things, never got around to it. Perhaps tonight is the night.
Probably at work.
Didn’t watch that clip all the way through, but was struck by how great his vocals were.
I’ve never noticed what a lovely voice he has before – or did it get better with age? Then again, I only own the two usual suspects of their albums, and haven’t listened to either for at least fifteen years, probably.
Never seen that before. That is some serious ‘guitar face’ he pulls during the widdly solos isn’t it?
Great post. Really brought me back to that day, I had absolutely no idea when that live 8 gig was. As recall I was gadding about town that day, and very oddly I was on Marylebone high street too probably around midday for some reason. I remember it well. Cant think for the life of me think why I was there tho. Then in Camden (on bike, learning lines for a play I was in) then bumped into an old uni friend at mornington crescent where I used to live.
Cant remember the evening at all but I imagine it involved a bottle of wine …