JAMES BLUNT REVIEW AT HAMPTON COURT

At the very last minute yesterday I was offered two tickets to see James Blunt perform at Hampton Court by a friend. Well, until that moment I thought I’d dealt with the mild obsession I’d had for him ever since he saw my face in a crowded place and didn’t know what to do. “Oh, how lovely, thanks so much, but no, I can’t, not only was I there last night, but I’ve got to stay in with the kids, get homework sorted, cook supper, usual stuff, what? You’re taking your kids? Bring them with me? Give them some information on Henry VIII at the same time? Brilliant idea. OK. FAB. I’ll sort. See you there”…….

So once again I found myself picnicking on the gorgeous lawns, this time with my 10 year old son in tow. Heaven. Entirely different from the night before for the Pink Floyd fans (who mostly didn’t bring picnics, but queued up for burgers instead). James Blunt’s audience looked like sugared almonds spread out amongst the green lawns. Sprinklings of cashmere and pearls and soft blankets and crudites, houmous, homemade salad and pink champagne.

This was the audience at the Australian Pink Floyd evening the night before last, made up mostly of men of a certain age and hair loss:-

Compared to James’ blonde swishy lock brigade:-

He engaged with the audience immediately by wandering through the crowd to climb on stage. Chatted away about his tour and by his 4th song “Strong As You Are” he had got the whole audience singing along. He managed to encourage everybody to stand up by saying that although it wasn’t a very British thing to do, because we would all be worried about losing our seats and blocking the person behind he promised nobody would steal our seats…slowly a little head popped up here and there but by the 5th song a loyal herd of mid 40’s blondes had leapt to their feet and virtually stampeded towards the front, leaving their slightly bemused partners behind.

I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Knew lots of the songs. He’s looking good – a little teeny weeny sex on a stick. All rippling muscles and gorgeous. Reminds me of my first boyfriend. In fact, spitting image:-

Then he moved from the guitar to the piano and started to get a little more suggestive with the crowd…. “I’d play this song SO much better if some of you took your clothes off”……and “I dedicate this song to the first person to take their clothes off” and then he sang “Goodbye My Lover” which although he’d already dedicated it to me some years ago, it was frankly just as well I was in a family group because I might just have been that middle aged woman at the front taking all her clothes off.

Once again, I felt supremely privileged to be seeing musicians play in such a splendid environment. Such a good idea to use the space accordingly:-

AND GUESS WHAT? Even managed to take a picture of the resident ghost at the window – who bizarrely knew all the words!

Finally, it was all over – my mild obsession back in full force. It was brilliant. One criticism though which I shall direct to James himself, should he decide to read his reviews – don’t sing rock songs about shagging lots of women and not getting complicated – it doesn’t work – not after Goodbye My Lover. You need to stick to miserable songs about love and loss. It’s the only way forward. ALSO just a quick question – why were you at nightclubs in 1973? Is it a clever way of attracting an older female audience? Suggest you give me a call to discuss.