Bastille. Where do I start? Do I start with their Coachella performance on Friday, or do I start with their ability to deviate from the herd so eloquently? I guess I should say, that Bastille are most definitely my new musical obsession. Not only are they beautiful to listen to, but they are also a source of inspiration for me. And, yes, they are not bad to look at…beside the point…let’s move on, shall we?
Ever since I can remember, I have always turned to bands to glue my pieces together in times of strife. Bands such as Simple Plan, All Time Low, Good Charlotte, McFly, Busted, The Summer Set, Allstar Weekend, Keane, Hot Chelle Rae and Fall Out Boy have graced my ears and have reattached sections of my soul that have crumbled off. Bastille has now been given this job, and, boy, do they do a good job.
When I first got into their music, I bought their album on a whim. I had heard ‘Pompeii’ a handful of times and had liked their sound—it was different from a lot of stuff that I had been listening to at the time. I like different music. So, the double CD All This Bad Blood in a small bag swinging from my hand, I headed home, where my life would change forever. Ok, a little dramatic, I get it, but I am not kidding that much.
Since that day, I have let my inner fangirl reign and have tried to learn as much as I can about each member and how the band came to be. Dan Smith, lead singer, extreme introvert, immediately spoke to me. Just the simple fact that he is uncomfortable when the focus is on him (on film, on stage etc), showed me that success and dreams are still possible despite having the deepest desire to hide under a 3 tonne boulder for the rest of your life—it gives me hope for not only fulfilling my own hopes and dreams, but that introverts around the world have a role model to look up to. Well done, guys—Woody, Kyle, Dan and Will, I THANK YOU.
Not only do their personalities appeal to me, but Dan also has this amazing ability to write lyrics for Bastille’s songs that have the potential to apply to people’s lives around the world. As a lover of ambiguity and poetic prose, I look up to his talent and use his level of ability to have something to work toward with my own writing. These magical lyrics, are only supported and hightened by the rest of the band’s—Woody, Will and Kyle— ability to play their instruments with finesse and grace.
Therefore, the ingredients that go into what make Bastille who they are, the people, their personalities, their talents, their stage presence, their individuality are all qualities that make them all the better in my eyes.
So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you from surfacing from you introverted ways to grace the world with your music, because without your bravery and talent, I don’t know where I would be today. You give me, and many others, the chance to hope for a shiny future. Thank you…
Turn the music up and turn the world down, that’s what I have always told myself. I slip my bulky headphones over my ears and press, perhaps with a little too much force, the play button on my small, battered iPod.
A voice, salvation, support, serenading directly down the canal; I instantly relax, tilt my head back and close my eyes. I have listened to these words, that riff, this chord progression so many times I could sing each at the drop of a hat; but this technicolour concert is only for me and my mind.
A love, an appreciation for these musical artists swells within my mind and I am forced to consider what my life would be like without these songs—it’s always the same answer; dull, grey, lifeless. I think of the words that I once heard said by Alex Gaskarth of All Time Low: “Never underestimate a girl’s love for her favourite band. Never think even for a minute, that she won’t defend them to her death; because it’s not just the music that makes that band her favourite. It’s the guys, the gals; it’s the fans; people who she has interacted with thanks to the band. That band might have saved her life, or just made her smile every day. That band has never broken her heart and has yet to leave her. No wonder she finds such joy in her music.” It’s true. Too true.
The music draws rainbows which bloom to orchids. I can practically feel each stitch being sewn along the cracks in my mind. I can feel each wound heal, a small itching sensation before the new flesh forms with pinkish hue. And, though, some of the wounds re-open after the melody fades, the temporary relief becomes bearable compared to no relief at all.
An attachment grows, from fan to artist, though artists don’t know of the existence of most fans. And somehow, despite a realisation of this, despite the knowledge that you are most probably a face lost in a sea, you feel special—especially in their prescence. That feeling is irreplacable.
“Never underestimate a girl’s love for her favourite band”. If you do, she will most likely never forgive you. I guarantee it.