Standing In Your Cardigan
Edinburgh has been different this past few days.
Increasingly, Murrayfield is used for major concerts – I saw the Rolling Stones there some years ago, and since then it’s hosted Live8, U2, Harry Styles, Beyonce and Bruce Springsteen that I remember off the top of my head. This weekend has been Taylor Swift. The headline attendance numbers are impressive in themselves -71,000 on day one, 73,000 last night and a similar number tonight, but there is something else going on. These have been more than just concerts, these have been events. They not only transcend the current pre-election nonsense but also put the often twee and self-satisfied cultural scene in Edinburgh, including the Fringe, in perspective.
This ain’t the Chelsea Hotel
It’s not only that I can’t think of another act that could have achieved those numbers or triggered such a civic response or even brought such generalised financial benefits to the central belt of Scotland, it’s to do with what she represents.
Most of the gigs I go to are older acts, now well beyond pension age – in recent years these have included Van der Graaf Generator, King Crimson, Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets and Yes. In the UK at least, the audience for these shows include a great many men of my generation, stroking their beards appreciatively while trying to tap out 11/16 rhythms during the toe tappers and murmuring obscure lyrics. These audiences are not exclusively male, but they predominantly are.
Even other bands I go and see with a more mixed audience and contemporary approach are still touring medium to large theatres with maybe a couple of thousand people attending. Folk and blues tends to be in pubs and clubs.
Taylor Swift’s audience is something else entirely: 70-odd thousand women (mainly, though not exclusively) singing, laughing, dancing and living their best lives for three and a half hours with an artist who has the knack of making a rugby stadium feel like an intimate space while playing and singing her own songs live (no lip-syncing). Walking through Corstorphine surrounded by shiny happy Swifties and excited families on their way to the show, it’s hard not to feel the pull of the palpable joy the audience feels for being with their people. This isn’t just about the songs or the music, it’s about belonging.
And I’m envious of those who had tickets.
***
TV watching has been fairly low-key. I skimmed through the final season of Star Trek: Discovery and didn’t see any reason to think it had improved. Much more pleasurable has been the new season of Dr Who. I’ve been ambivalent in the past about Russell T Davis and Who (although I was wholly caught up in It’s A Sin), but this season has consistently been a joy to watch so far. The new Star Wars show, The Acolyte, has started well.
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