Brits In LA

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to see a couple of British singers right here in Los Angeles.

Sam Smith - Greek Theater

I’d never been to the Greek before and it’s quite a small, intimate, open air venue (Oooh, don't I sound like a fancy music critic…?)  Although it's an outdoor arena, considering we are in Los Angeles in September we didn't need any blankets to keep us warm.  In fact, the Margaritas were perfect.  (Oh, that would be $15 Margaritas, by the way).

$15!!!

The opening group were 'Broods' a New Zealand band.  I've never heard of them, I think they might be quite new, but they were okay.  They sang for about half an hour and then the anticipation began ..

When Sam Smith came onto the stage, the crowd erupted and quite frankly, he was bloody brilliant. He has the best voice and it literally sounds like you are listening to a CD when he sings.  

He sang almost all of his songs as well as his Whitney Houston cover, La La La and Latch. (Even though Naughty Boy and Disclosure weren't actually there, you couldn't tell).  All of them sounded exactly like you would hear on the radio.  He sang for over an hour and chatted away to the audience and he seems just so, well, sweet (for want of a better word)

I found out the next day he was actually suffering from laryngitis! You can see why this boy is going to be MASSIVE!

Lily Allen - The Palladium

I thought the Greek was small and intimate – well, it’s flippin' Wembley stadium compared to the Palladium, a standing only venue on Sunset Boulevard.  Although at $15 for a beer, you won’t be getting drunk there any time soon.  We tried, we really did, but it just wasn’t going to happen at that price!

Pretty in Pink

It was all very girlie – the stage lit up in pink and purple and lighted baby bottles everywhere.  I’m not sure if that’s because she’s had a couple of babies or if it was something more subliminal.  Most of the songs were from her new album Sheezus, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t get to hear some of the favourites – LDN (which reminds me of home), Smile and of course, the brilliant F*ck You! As soon as the first few bars of that one were heard, the crowd went wild.  There's nothing better than jumping up and down giving the 'V' sign, although since this is America it technically wasn't the 'V' sign, it was the middle finger!

Where's the baby fat?

She may have taken some time off to have those babies, but she can still belt it out - and my God, look at those abs!  

I do like to see an English band play in LA – I’ve seen the likes of Simple Minds, Mumford & Sons and Madness,  but I just missed Jake Bugg.  I always have the fantasy they will ask “Is there anyone from England here?” and I will put up my hand and say “Me, me, me..” and I will get asked up on stage…. That’s pretty much where it ends as there is absolutely no way I would get up there and be in front of all those people.  It would just be really awkwardly uncomfortable…  And that’s probably why they don’t ask.  If they did, there would just be a lot of averted eyes in the audience while people prayed “don’t pick me, don’t pick me….”  in typical English fashion.

Gun Culture - It's Not for Me.

Yikes!

“Can you bring my gun down from upstairs” Dave asked me the other day.  That was a question I would have never thought I would hear in my life.  But this is America where everybody has guns, everybody.

I stood there, looking at the thing, trying to figure out how to hold it.  I wasn’t sure which end I should grab.  Should I hold it on the end the bullets come out of, or should I hold it by the handle?  What happened if I held it too tightly and accidentally pulled the trigger and inadvertently blew my foot off?  But then, I didn’t want to hold it so lightly in case I dropped it - and inadvertently blew my foot off.  What a dilemma.

I opted for the handle end, between my thumb and forefinger, just kind of hanging there, held out in front of me.  In hindsight, this was probably the most likely way for me to blow a hole in myself.  Dave stood, open mouthed, as I came down the stairs.  “It won’t kill you” he said.  Well, actually,  I think it probably would, to tell you the truth!!!

It was a very creepy kind of feeling to actually hold a gun.  Bloody Hell, nobody in England has guns, not even the Police.  They have to make do with a truncheon a.k.a. a big stick and a whistle.  Okay, maybe the whistle is a thing of the past, but you get it.  I think some police might be carrying guns now, but the normal person on the street really doesn’t have a need to have one.  Unless you are a Kray twin, obviously.  But then, they weren't exactly what you would call 'normal.'

 

The infamous Kray twins

Great White Hunter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But America seems to be the land of the brave, the land of the Great White Hunter where it is positively frowned upon or you’re a thought to be a tad odd if you don’t have a gun.  I’m not going to get into the politics of the gun debate, but I will just say that I think I will refrain from getting myself a gun, unless I happen to find myself somewhere in the Serengeti chasing a lion, and then perhaps I might borrow one (or just let someone else do the shooting).

 

Until then, I will make do with my whistle.

This will work.. right??

Small Talk - No Thank You!

There are some things that just make me cringe.  The English nature is to avoid standing out in a crowd or bringing attention to yourself, just blend into the backgound.  So when I am chatting away to a friend just minding my own business and someone I don't really know joins the conversation, listens to me speaking for a while and then says "Oh, I love the way you talk, keep talking, don't stop.."   I just instantly clam up.  I can't talk, and I really don't want to.

It happened to me yesterday.  It had been a while and I had totally forgotten just how awkward and squeamish it made me feel.  I cringed inside and went silent.

It's a terribly British thing to want to stay in the background, out of the  limelight and especially when it's a stranger talking to you who, horror of horrors, wants to keep on talking and engage you in conversation.  Questions like "How long have you been here?" and "Wow, you've still got your accent" are the usual openers.  I mumble that I've been here 20 years and yes, I tried to keep my accent.  But they just don't give up... I end up coming across as rude and standoffish, but that can't be helped, I didn't ask for the conversation, for heavens sake!

Don't Americans know that us British don't like small talk and won't do it, unless it's absolutely necessary and unavoidable.  Even then it's only in very exceptional circumstances and invariably the topic is the weather.  Don't make eye contact and whatever you do, don't smile at someone.  Oh good grief, they might think we actually want to start a conversation and that would be horrendous and extremely uncomfortable.