Boston Manor LIVE at Blackpool Ballroom

May 1st, 2020; the summer sun is high in the sky, vapour is shimmering into the air from baking tarmac and a lone goose wanders down Manchester’s deserted Market Street. You have just spent the past six months writing, recording and marketing the release of your third studio album to an international crowd who are currently – legally- isolated in their front room’s/bedrooms/windowless student hovels. Year-old gig posters hang from empty concert halls after being postponed again and again, bars are dryer than my dreams of future employment and somewhere, to the dismay of an underpaid Tesco employee, a middle-aged man with a mask barely covering his neckbeard coughs into his hand before entering the line within the ‘2 metres apart’ tape. Do you go ahead with it? Boston Manor said yes.

To me, an album full of ‘exactly what I wanted/needed’ was a dream; laying on my bed for the third hour of the evening, starting Glue from the beginning again and marvelling at the rare phenomenon that was an album comprised of thirteen songs that each gained more approval from me than that time when we all thought Jeremy Corbyn would beat BoJo and give the youth a fighting chance, but hey. Here I am; five months later in a different house, sat on a different bed at the beginning of my second hour of bumming around, reflecting on Boston Manor’s (and my) first gig of the year…it is October.

I think it goes without stating that I miss gigs (as everyone wails "oh, I miss gigs") and we are a long way from going back to damaging our hearing in sweaty, smoke-filled halls, but Boston Manor’s live-streamed set was definitely a step in the right direction. I have to say, it is the first time I have ever held a mug of green tea at a gig, and it was an experience I wouldn’t mind repeating. Sipping from my owl mug, me and Mark sat down in our front room – lights off, volume cranked – and opened up the YouTube link that had been sent to my emails from Ticketmaster after I had bought my £10 digital ticket. I guess this time I won’t have a souvenir to put away in a box to dig out in several years’ time.

My first observation was obviously the comfort; not having to stand like a sardine for several hours, not having to push through people or risk not actually being able to see anything because I am a short-arse, etc. But something else that occurred to me, that perhaps isn’t as widely considered, is the complete lack of anxiety or pressure felt from being in a high-intensity social situation. Now obviously I am aware that this is a large part of the enjoyment of live shows – the last time I saw Boston Manor I had my glasses kicked off my face twice and, both times, managed to find them on the floor, unharmed. While I will always remember this incredible feat of personal dextrous skill (or downright luck), this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

No, in fact, the Green Tea package might be a serious lesson in accessibility and comfort. There’s nothing like playing to a screaming live crowd, and vocalist Henry Cox discusses this in the break between a couple of songs, but this more tame way of experiencing live music in venues that lack seating areas might be a positive consideration for those of us who do suffer from disabilities or health issues, whether physical or not. Maybe having gigs be livestreamed in the future could be the answer to many of these questions and extra measures, and might even boost ticket sales if managed properly, eg: have normal price, limited physical tickets for those who want to attend the venue and experience the music in all its glory, and then have a package that provides access to a stream of the gig for those who either couldn’t get tickets or want to stay home for whatever reason.

And artists could limit the number of online tickets to encourage physical appearance or, if they aren’t worried about attendance, leave it open so there is no limit to the money gained from ticket sales. Clearly I am no scholar on the subject, there would be countless technical and financial issues that would have to be ironed out, but we have seen that it is entirely plausible, and I have spent a countless amount of time re-watching live sets on YouTube from festivals past; I reckon there would be an audience for it.

The show itself was stellar. Cox’s vocals were much stronger this time around than previous recorded performances which could be up to both his skill and the BTS recording quality. All the instruments cut through perfectly and the backing vocals were there but never intruded. Boston Manor played a mixture of new and old tracks and they were played as heard on the album. There is nothing wrong with this, but part of me wished they had spiced the set up a bit, maybe filling some of the dead air between songs with ambience or diverting from the original tracks to give them more of a special live feel, but these are hardly complaints as the boys came through without a doubt.

The camerawork felt much less like an intense gig and more like a YouTube session on a bigger scale. I haven’t seen many larger artists doing this kind of thing yet so our pathfinders are going to need to explore bigger and better ways of doing this as the scene progresses, but for what it was the production was perfect and both the visuals and audio created a wonderful, high-quality experience.

The livestream was available for a further 48 hours after viewing, so we took the liberty of watching the set again the following night, this time with more lager. I find this exclusivity interesting: a clear business strategy with a sentiment for creating that ‘one-time’ gig experience, but available from the comfort and safety of your own home.

Despite my comments on the positives of livestreamed music, the events industry needs live music to come back to venues. These are the workplaces of both the highly trained and the part-time student. It is heart-breaking to see more and more of these small business forced to shut their doors for good, and for the salaried staff to be laid off without any hope for the future of their career in music events. It is so important that we as consumers support our beloved artists and watering-holes as we look at devolving back into lockdown.

A tenner for a high quality, professionally built music event is peanuts when it comes to keeping our music and culture alive. Support your fellow creators in any way that you can, whether it is by giving them money directly or simply reacting to their activity on social media to draw attention to them. But most of all; be respectful. We are all going through this tough time together, whether you’re a third-year student like me or an events coordinator out of work for the first time in ten years, our industry is dependant on all of us working together to keep it alive; it cannot exist without its workers. Be kind to your fellow man, compromise with your noisy neighbours (painful as it may be) and share, share, share homebound creators’ work.

Photography by Theodore Swaddling

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