An Ode to the Laser Light

This is in part a review of the Foals gig in Birmingham on Tuesday and in part of tribute to lighting in live music, or rather a chance at attempting to articulate the swirl of euphoric bliss I can remember from the cold Tuesday night. Ending college at 5:00pm, and trudging home in the cold and dark knowing you'll be leaving the house again in less than an hour for a gig is always a bleak thought - enough to tempt you to forget about your plans and stay in, watch celebrity come dine with me on catch up and forget about the outside world. The initial energy involved in getting yourself out of the house and into the cold, with nothing more than a denim jacket as a shield is pretty exhausting - redeemed only once you're inside the venue and surrounded by fellow denim jackets.

It is always a difficult ask when deciding what is the "best" gig you've been to, there are many determining factors for different people, getting to the barrier, not getting trampled to death, being completely trampled to death. For me, the inclusion of a good laser is always a high point of a gig. Seeing The Wombats in October 2011 (shut up) was perhaps the first gig wherein I truly experienced the gig, complete with the whole kit and caboodle of lights, lasers and coloured strobes, it was more than my excitable 15 year old self could handle (it was also the first - and so far the only - gig in which I fell victim to mortifying shoe lift from a stranger at the other end of the room, with only a sock protecting my left foot from the alcohol covered floor).

Foals were a whole different ball game, and at risk of sounding like one of those dickheads, Spanish Sahara - and the visual accompaniment - was almost enough to drive me to the highly cringey task of linking arms with the stranger next to me in a "totally, like, beautiful moment". The room went silent (and blue) with Yannis' angelic vocals, and the crowd were doused in a sheet of blue laser, smoke swimming across the air like the rainbow shine on the surface of a bubble. Spanish Sahara was an out of body experience (ignoring the decision of 2/3 of the room to sit on the floor to "totally appreciate the moment", which to my mentally 83 year old self seemed entirely impractical), and a pretty spectacular memory.

What makes lights so attractive and appealing at gigs is the overall sense of feeling like being a part of something. Being trapped in a room full of sweaty-indie-point-winning-teenagers is a daunting idea, but with the inclusion of a well crafted light display, you find yourself being consumed in the moment, "I Wanna be Yours" in November was a perfect example of this.

Although nothing does quite beat the DIY spontaneity of seeing a band in a pub or a warehouse, or some other sort of tiny venue with no apparent sound system, having on average a square inch of space and being effectively stood on by everyone around you - once in a while it is rather nice to be immersed in lasers and colours and an almost euphoric sense of togetherness (sorry), that and it does makes for a highly instagramable gig.