Two nights ago I saw Robbie Thompson play at Bishop’s House.
The house was built almost 500 years ago.
Rachel played first. For one song she was concerned that the lack of vocal reverb would spoil the intended effect of the song.
I spoke to Robbie in the queue for toilet before he played. He was nervous and excited to play new songs for people.
Towards the end, a tall man almost fell on a group of girls who were sitting on the floor. Bones would have been broken. Tears would have been cried.
Throughout it all, my mind raced with its typical generation game of thoughts – some pleasant, many less so.
Everything seemed to matter massively to everyone. We thought that what we wanted was good, what we didn’t was bad.
But to the house, it was just another day.