The second you walked off that stage, the penny dropped. I had to write about this show.
The question is: how? Any true fan of yours has seen the pictures and videos circulating the internet. Every show you perform is sheer mastery. So, what could I possibly say in a blog that the world doesn’t already know?
Well, as my friend McKayla DeBonis told me:
“Music can bring peace to a whole group of diversity at a concert, it’s really magical.”
This was more than just a concert for me. I fell in love with you and your music after hearing Be the One for the first time; you were a breakout artist, but I’d never have known that from just one listen. The song was – is – a masterpiece. Frankly, since hearing it all that time ago, I have been hooked. Seeing you live wasn’t just a great night out: it was an honour.
It became quite clear within a few minutes of writing this that my feelings towards the ‘Dua Lipa: Self-Titled Tour’ at the O2 Academy Brixton deserved more than just a blog post. They warrant something much more personal. Something like this.
When you stepped onto that stage for the first time, the entire venue screaming at the top of their lungs, everything seemed to come together. In a world so divided by gender, race, sexuality, and age, we united. You did that.
Now, I’m no expert when it comes to stage management – or anything musical at all, to be honest. I study Media at A-Level, that awkward stage between secondary school and University which seems forever overlooked by outsiders, and even then my focus is on film. But it doesn’t take an expert to separate the good from the great. What I saw last night? That was beyond great. Every tiny detail, from the set list to the visual display behind you, was a work of art. Well, I think my tweet from the night pretty much sums it up.
I may not have touched my phone once that night, but my fellow Dua-fan Samson captured a few beautiful memories on his. Figure A, this grainy selfie:
And @Craigizzle on Twitter took this beauty from above:
I don’t know about you, but that last picture floods me with all kinds of emotions. To me, this is what the music industry is all about: uniting people for a common cause, testing the limits of your art, and breaking down boundaries. Within the past couple of years, you have done all three. I’ve never met you, but I couldn’t be more proud.
Of all the songs you played last night, I am the most grateful for Homesick. Seeing you up on that stage, pouring your heart out to 5,000 fans – well, that’s special. Since the day it was released, Homesick hasn’t once failed to bring me to tears; the chorus especially brings a chill to my spine, followed by an overwhelming sense of euphoric sadness.
You give me a reason,
Something to believe in,
I know, I know, I know.
You give me a meaning,
Something I can breathe in,
I know, I know, I know.
It’s a bittersweet feeling,
Longing and I’m leaving,
I go, I go, I go.
But I wish I was there with you.
Oh, I wish I was there with you.
My girlfriend and I have, as of today, been together for just over 3 months. She saw me at my most vulnerable – pouring my heart out in a blog about some of my darkest moments – and she made me feel loved; even more of a miracle, she made me love myself. Living in New Zealand, Iya is literally as far away from me as she could possibly be, but it’s more than worth the effort. She’s worth it. The chorus of Homesick contains perhaps some of my favourite lyrics of all time, partially due to the raw emotion they hold but also because of the hope they instil in me. Hearing them live was, hands down, one of the best experiences of my life. And yes, I cried my eyes out.
That leaves me with my final – and most important – thing of all: thank you. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the emotions. Thank you for taking such a diverse crowd and bringing us together as one. You, Dua Lipa, have touched the hearts of generations and created something truly remarkable. You have created one love.
See you at Ally Pally.