WHO’S GOT THE TICKETS?: A HOPE STREET WINTER’S TALE
Festive outings will always begin with triple checking who bought the gig tickets, whether they’ve been downloaded and when the last pint needs to be finished. The same act playing out weekly from November, through December in a Rob Gutmann pub, as you enjoy a game of “my Nan had that in her living room” and avoid eye contact with any and all taxidermy animals. The warm lighting frames the faces of your nearest and dearest, as the mulled wine warms your hands, or the red wine warms your stomach.
Stumble out onto Hope Street and the world around you comes into focus. Gaggles of friends, Christmas dos that people have tried to cheat their way out of, and any number of idiosyncratic traditions fill the street.
The smell of the “it’s just when I have a drink” smokers clashes with the cool crispness of the air and those overuses last bits of perfume – safe in the knowledge that new bottles will be under the tree come the 25th. The haze of it all plays with the lights that emanate from the windows above, a flickering winter constellation of celebrations that lights our way.
Before the market opens and your tree goes up, there’s music in the air, welcoming in that special time of year. Hear the unashamed harmonies of those who sing along with the performers as you pass pubs, listen in to who is going where as you pass congregations of fellow festivity seekers and think, “why didn’t I get tickets to that?” And stumble on to tonight’s tradition.
This year, we start with Suzi Quatro at the Liverpool Philharmonic. In the colder months, this place is most of Liverpool’s base, the centre of our festive universe. Awed by Astles & The Balloon Moon Orchestra, as they celebrate their fifth annual show, second in the Philharmonic, platforming the very best of the next wave of talented musicians. And ending as the organ plays and the black and white flicker of It’s A Wonderful Life signifies Christmas is finally here.
As her bass rings through the hall and the brass section stand to attention, Suzi transports the audience back to much loved memories, soundtracking entire lives. For me, I’m transported back to twisting around my grandad’s kitchen. Grateful to have had that opportunity to inherit a favourite artists, to know all the words, dodgy dance moves and recall taking my grandad to his first concert aged 73, Suzi, of course.
Looking around, you see the city itself. A mismatched crowd of battle jackets, designer blow outs and lots of sequins, uniting to screams of “go on Suzi” and clapping slightly out of time to the beat. What better to experience this city, but in a sea of music lovers. And when Suzi nods to John McNally, The Searchers’ Guitarist, in the audience, the crowd unites in laughter and applause; of course there’s a star in our midst.
When it all comes to an end, the crowd flood in unison onto the streets, snowflakes dancing around their laughter and joy. People break off, heading onto their next adventure. After one too many and that kind of high that only music can offer, there’s a buzz in the air. Of the potential and anticipation these next months hold, as opportunities to weave new experiences in with the old are grasped and memories are made.
Maybe you’ll fund yourself at O2 Academy Liverpool, paying tribute to the greats, with Definitely Mightbe, Absolute Bowie, Antarctic Monkeys and more gracing the stage. Or give praise to Liverpool heroes, Ian Prowse & Amsterdam, with their annual 13 piece band knees up.
And for those who manage to get tickets before they inevitably sell out, we’ll see you at Blackstone Street Warehouse, dancing until your feet hurt thanks to the geniuses over at Circus. Or maybe we’ll bump into you the day afterwards, fuelling up on a fry up before you do it all again, stuck in that inevitable cycle of saying yes to it all and dealing with the consequences later.
And in the glimpses of peace, where the fuel of a big breakfast is not required, go and seek out those simple festive joys that fill Liverpool. The moments that leave you standing there, taken aback of the beauty of our city and the ridiculousness of the season.
Flash mobs of elves outside Liverpool One, unexpected choir performances and the quite shocking pride of the people who stroll past you in the worst Christmas jumpers that have ever been produced.
And as the shopping begins, remember local. Pile records, local venue merch and tickets to 2025’s biggest gigs under your tree, because what better a gift is there than music?
Written by Megan Walder / @m_l_writes
