Well now, my ears are still ringing. Not from the group, although they seemed most loud to me, Carlos, the spanish one, could probably get a job working as the fog horn on a ship whenever he decides to lower his eyebrow.
No no, we had cracking good seats, near to the stage centre aisle, my friend had her camera at the ready. But on my other side I was swiftly to discover I was sitting by il Divo's biggest Fan!
repeat for one hour and about forty minutes.
She wept openly during their rendition of 'Mama' and almost lost her shit completely when her son/toyboy, ran out of batteries for the camera on which he was filming the entire concert. Luckily she had only to reach into the suitcase she was carrying to find more. That she did this in an absolute blind panic just made the whole scene more remarkable.
'Ima gon to keek dat beech in de fanny.' My Spanish friend hissed looking very fierce, ' She shud shut de mouth. Eef she catch me ona bad day I keel her.'
'Well, you're not the one sitting beside her.' I managed to get out before a 'OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!' shattered what was left of my ear drum.
Despite the biggest fan, it was a cheery sort of evening. I'm not really sure I'm cut out for it though, I don't mind the music so much, but the cheesy talk between songs made my toes curl.
'We are here to geeeve you pleasure.' Carlos assured the throng of salivating laydeees at the front, and causing the laydee beside me to have an orgasm, I know, I could hear it.
'Musical pleasure of course ah ah ah.' He said, making his one raised eyebrow disappear behind the one slick curl on his forehead.
And later this gem.
'We want you-'
cue much screaming-
'To the music of course. Ah ah ah.'
And then they burst into song and the light came up dramatically and flooded us as the god like entertainers were backed in a heavenly glow. The Fan screamed. I flinched and my friend said 'That is unreal.'
It was rather unreal. Also I appeared to be the only person there without a drink in my hand so this might have something to do with my bemusement.
I can happily report that the French dude is singing much better, the 'merican one is my favourite because he does all the harmonies and he's quite theatrical when singing and smiles a lot.
The spaniard has the best voice, a rummbly baritone, but I think he sort of drowns out the others a bit, although as a showman, he's second to none. He'd certainly give Joe Dolan a good run for his money or Sea-lion Dion.
The band were really really very good.
At the end the four 'guys' came down and sat on the lip of the stage to sing their final song. Naturally this caused a minor stampede of chiffon clad ladies and as the boys sang they were happily pawed and groped and made shake hands, accept flowers and sign stuff. To their credit they acted as veritable showmen and looked like they were really enjoying it, all except Urls, or whatever his name is, the Swiss one, the one whose cheekbones you put plant pots out on, my friend's favourite. He has two expressions, singing, and painful wind. I thought about relaying this observation to my friend, but she might keek me in my fanny, and I'm already down an eardrum so I can't have that.
High pitched screaming!
I'm against it!