Gorillaz in Paris Part I
Leading up to the Show:
I had no intention of going to see the Gorillaz last night. Not that I didn’t want to go. I like the Gorillaz fine, from what little exposure I’ve had to their music, and by that I mean the few radio-approved exports that make it to the states. I was never terribly impressed by the whole gorilla cartoon thing nor the rumor I had heard that the band members played behind screens at their concerts to conceal their identity. Totally pretentious, I thought. But alas, there I was, dancing gleefully with my jaw dropped in awe. I didn’t know any of the words (apart from “I’m happy, I’m feeling glad, I’ve got sunshine in a bag…”), I didn’t know the lead singer’s name, the name of their albums, what you would call this genre of music, anything. And this concert has been sold out for months. In fact it was so popular the band decided to put on two concerts back to back and both sold out within days. So how on earth did I wind up at a Gorillaz concert in the midst of die-hard fans with only a half-hearted interest of my own?
It all started six months ago when I was shopping for the perfect birthday present for the Swede. I decided that the gift of a happy experience was better than something tangible. Besides our flat suffers from what I like to call “maximalism” so I figured the less extra clutter the better. I blindly started surfing fnacspectacle.com to see if any interesting concerts were coming to town. Gorillaz was the first to catch my eye. Perfect I thought, until I looked at the price. I knew I could do better. So after some price comparison shopping I came upon a ticket site called Viagogo and impulsively placed an order. I went to bed satisfied with my thoughtful purchase and savvy shopping.
The next day I received a suspicious email. Apparently Viagogo needed a copy of my passport in order to process my purchase. That was not going to fly. I immediately responded with a scathing email: “I don’t know what kind of blackmarket bullshit you people are conducting but I’m not having any of it. You WILL send me my tickets and I will NOT send you my passport details”. Needless to say, I never saw those tickets, but then I never got charged for them either. It didn’t hurt that I put a hold on my credit card until the situation cooled off.
I was in a pickle. I had gone and gotten my heart set on this gift. I resumed my internet search, though in the short amount of time that had passed the prices had already gone up. I gave Ebay.fr a try,and graciously my prayers were answered; the tickets were even cheaper than the ones I had found on Viagogo. I placed an order for immediate purchase from Paris-based seller and the next day I picked up my secured delivery at the post office.
Fast forward to mid November. Rumors started circulating that the concert was canceled and would be rescheduled for later in the month. The Swede and his Mate were prepared for the original concert date, having taken off work accordingly. But the new date was set for a Tuesday and his Mate couldn’t get off work. It looked like I was going to have to go in his stead.
The morning of the show the Swede woke up at 5 am and rushed to the bathroom to commence violently vomiting. At around 11 am he urged me to call his Mate’s girlfriend, Sunshine, since she was somewhat of a fan, and give her his ticket. I told him he was overreacting and if he showed signs of improvement in the next two hours, he could still possibly make it to the show. He grunted between barfs that he disagreed.
So that is how the two tickets intended for two die-hard Gorillaz fans somehow landed in the hands of their somewhat less fanatical girlfriends. There was so many bad signs surrounding these tickets from the beginning, between the fiasco with the ghetto ticket retailer, the last minute change in concert dates, and the ill-timed bout of stomach flu, that I can’t help but feel that those boys were not supposed to be there for whatever reason. Maybe Sunshine and I were meant to go and catch the Gorillaz bug for ourselves! Which we did. 100%.