I saw Tame Impala and he said we were his favourite city
What I didn’t expect was the special connection that was formed between the two of us that fateful evening.
Image Credit: Alexandra Palace
I have been a fan of Tame Impala’s for a while, and having had tickets for his show for two and a half years, it was a joy to finally see him perform live the other night at Qudos Bank Arena.
What I didn’t expect was the special connection that was formed between the two of us that fateful evening. Even though I was seated hundreds of feet away, on the first level of seating, Door 3, Row G, Seat 60, I felt an inexorable bond tethering us throughout the show.
It began when Mr Kevin Parker took to the stage and performed a few of his hits. During a breather after an extended version of ‘Elephant’, he spoke to the crowd. “Sydney is my favourite city. I fucking love Sydney.” His angelic voice ricocheted off the rafters. An uproar of screams and applause erupted from the audience as Kevin and his Impalas promptly burst into their 2015 classic ‘Let It Happen’. “I know all the words to this one!” I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes.
Later on, he repeats once more, in case we forgot, that Sydney is his favourite city to perform at, his first gig outside of Perth having been played at the Civic. How I yearned to be in 2007, swaying along to the deep cuts on their debut EP, none of which I know the lyrics to.
If what he's telling is the truth, then that must mean this Perth-based artist would choose us over his hometown, making us feel extra special.
As the evening continued, the flattery didn’t stop. He once again turned to the crowd, no doubt having checked with the data analysts backstage, that we were the largest crowd he’s ever performed for. I could only blush, knowing that I was a part of making this happen.
Just when I thought my cheeks couldn’t turn more red, it happened. “I love you” — the words spilled out, an admission of love from the artist, directly to me. I’ve never experienced anything as romantic, a profession of love in front of all of Sydney.
For years I had been trying to chase the high of Year 7 camp, when the counsellors told my grade that we were the best school to have stayed in their lodgings. But now, I think this tops it.
Afterwards, Parker listed off various other firsts and achievements grounded in our fair city: took first steps, rode first bike, lost first tooth, found and lost first love, lost virginity. Someone sitting near me, who I assume was from Perth, stormed out angrily in a fit of tears. “I thought we had something!” I heard them bellow over the extended bridge of ‘New Person, Same Old Mistakes’ that was rapping against my tympanums.
At the climax of the show, a spotlight scoured the crowd, before eventually falling on me. Kevin Parker walked off the stage and in my direction. The standing section parted like the Red Sea as Parker handed me the Award for Best Audience Member, effortlessly pushing a strand of sandybrown hair back over his shoulder; “I never want this Slow Rush to end.” He then planted a soft kiss on my forehead, the gristles of his beard scratching my cranium. “I love you, and only you” he whispered. His soft voice still rings in my ears as I type this, my fingers quiver at the memory.