Marilyn and me :London, a gig and back again

Marilyn Manson

Its 5am and I’m up, I  curled my hair at midnight last night, so now time to brush it carefully  to create that lose tousled look I so love and chronically fail at.

I’m excited and nervous, im looking forward to a day way with just me and Mr6, time out of the old routine, time for just us, time to reintroduce our selves as husband and wife, lovers, friends not that one who takes the load when I can’t anymore.  But I’m worried, I hate leaving the children, my brain turns to morbid thoughts, of what happens if we have an accident, would they hate me forever for leaving them just to go to a gig? I wish we were more like the royals, and could travel separately to keep a least one of us alive !

I slap myself around a bit, give one last peek around the kids doors and get in the car.

Oh yeah, I should have said, we’re off to London to see Marilyn Manson play Brixton Academy. To me this is the premiership of gigs, top of my list. Mr6 and I narrowly missed out on tickets 13 yrs ago, and always said we would go again the next time he came to the uk. Four kids later, and we’re finally doing it !

It’s now about 7am and I need a wee ! after four kids I think that’s bloody impressive ! We stop just outside Bristol, wee done, now time for the coffee !

This is me, im a bit tired and still in the apprehensive stage. And still a  bit cross if truth be told that we are going. Why you ask? My fibromyalgia has been kicking off, and pushing my pain limits to extraordinary levels, and it makes me very hostile and non malluable and I worry that a trip like this will leave me incapacitated for weeks. And this you realise is ALL mr6 fault of course, for buying the tickets I the first place !

On the road again, no stops now until London .oh hang on, just one more quick wee (4 kids, 4!)

We near London, I can tell,the scary metal birds fly ever so close over head, what dark magic is this I cry !

Finally we hit Hammersmith, we park in our favourite 24hr car park. I worry again that as we are returning at midnight,we will get stabbed just as we reach the car. Mr6 reassured me  it’s manned around the clock and IT WILL BE FINE.

We catch the tube like old times, and head for home, my spiritual home. Laugh if you want but when I left London to return to devon, I left a little piece of my heart here. Every Friday Night I would venture to the Electric Ballroom, in full Goth dress to rock the night away till the early hours, only to return later the same day to just sit and chill, people watch. Take in the smells, ogle over sexy rock types. Camden had everything a young goth could want.

My spiritual home

The shop fronts, always give me a little shiver,pull me straight In appeals to my goth nature as I burst into sprint and get every part of my body covered on intricate ink. Mr6 reigns me back in as we head for the market for brunch. Now anyone who has frequented this amazing place, knows the market holds nearly every global dish your heart desires. The smell is mouth-watering as we take the , what we going to eat challenge. We feed our faces, Mr6 goes for the Teriayaki chicken and me I fill me boots with as much baklava my sweet tooth can take. We stalk the market,wonder at the delicate wooden carvings, let our hands wonder over the stunning brass statues of mighty horses ready to bolt free at any moment. Then my ears hear a familiar deep bass thumping over everything else, and the mighty Cyberdog appears before us, like a scene from metropolis, with its huge metal robot esque statues guarding its doors and near deafening dance tunes drowning out the market noise. Time for a photo opportunity me thinks. The one of me is shit, so not going in !

Cyberdog Camden

We leave my beloved Camden behind and head for the city, My pain is pretty severe now, I lean on Mr6, he takes my arm and we carry on.

We decide to visit the National gallery, and see some sunflowers, hay wains , and some people bathing. We are both blown away, to be so close to such masterpieces ,and we walk around in a comfortable silence, and don’t talk about our experience until the next day. We were both spellbound.

We step outside, and take the obligatory tourist photos of us at Trafalgar square. Then sat let the cool water flow between our fingers, as we reminisce about climbing the Lions on our first date  in 1999.

 we then cover covent Garden and soho, we fill three carrier bags and buy that thing we’ve always wanted of course we just browse through Soho, then make our way to Brixton.

Ok now im getting excited, I’ve forgotten Im a mother, I’m now 21 again, I’m fresh from Camden and ready to have my ears drums blown, head bang, shout till im sore and flay my arms about and take at least three people out ! The atmosphere changes, more and more Goths, rockers fill the tube, you nod in recognition, yes I AM GOING TO Marilyn Manson too, too cool to scream like a pack of girls at a one direction gig, but if I and the 6 footer dark-haired tattooed lovely would, we would.

Ok so now I’m here. Mr6 is still with me in case you were wondering, but we kind of have this unspoken thing going on. He lets me be me, do whatever I want, dance, chat to others, rock my socks off,but always there to share it all with me. So this is me out side the gig, the grin tells it all. IM wearing NIN t-shirt, I brought here at Brixton in 1997 seeing Nine Inch Nails, another top scorer on my list. I now wear it to every gig, holes and all.

We queue, we buy tour t-shirt, I take my seat. Yes I know, not down stairs in the mosh pit, but hey I’m 35 and I want to see ALL the gig, and I get a kick from watching the crowd, and to be honest, my pain can’t take it. We watch the support act, they are cool The eldest would love them, short break, the lights dim ive been cool until now, my heart pounds, sit forward in my seat then BAM ! Im up on my feet chanting, arm in the air, crowd goes fecking mental, its electric, and he appears on stage in front of me, just me, no else is here now, im making that noise, he’s singing to ME ! X Marilyn Manson has the audience in the palm of his sticky hand, and puts on a crowd pleaser of a show, with a greatest hits package mixed in with new material. Half way in, My t-shirt is off ( steady now ) im now down to my vest top as the sweat pours from me, as I punch Mr6 in the face for the second time, by accident, not sure he believes me. The shows nearly over, he’s doing his last song, it’s not, we know the encore is coming. It goes dark again, the stage changes, and he comes out to an ear bleeding loud cheer as he dons the costume of his Anti Christ superstar days and delights the crowd once again, one song left please let it be, is it ? please ? PLEASE ?? Then it comes, the drum march, the heavy guitar, with it rhythmic guitar crunching, I scream my heart out, im back in the electric ballroom, but this time he’s in front of me, as the whole arena shakes to his anthem THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE ! ive waited twelve yrs for this and it didn’t disappoint. This song was an awakening for me, it’s when I first discovered who I really was, gave me the confidence to be me. The lights come up it’s over, but its ok, im grinning like a fecker, sweaty, throats sore,  my ears are ringing and whooshing so im partially deaf, but We did it, it was amazing, a real rush, now bring me by bed !

Hot, sweaty, tired,

By the way we didn’t get back to Devon until 4.45 am, only to do the school run at 8.30. But hey it was so worth it, I would do it again in a heart beat xx

The clock in the car

Tell me your best or worst gig experiences, you never know we could have been to the same one !