25. The Human League

ROYAL ALBERT HALL

26 NOVEMBER 2012

A few things went down at this gig. First: my oldest mate and I discovered a hidden Davy’s Wine Bar by door five at the Royal Albert Hall, a secret subterranean speakeasy of sofas and sauvignon. Second revelation: never, ever, buy the highest seats in this place again. Not even ironically. Not even for the story. We were so high up, I half-expected an oxygen mask and a Sherpa. Perched in what I can only describe as the “Tenzing Norgay Memorial Section”, we were hit by full-blown vertigo before the first synth even dropped. Looking down at the stage was like peering through the wrong end of a telescope. Either the Human League had been shrunk by a freak lab accident, or we were officially watching a gig inside a snow globe.

Yes, that was probably Phil Oakey down there, flanked by Su Ann Sulley and Jo Catherall, spinning and shimmying like disco Barbies in a synthpop dollhouse. We think. Could’ve been a tribute act considering our altitude.

However, we could close our eyes and pretend we were in the thick of it, not clinging to a handrail, contemplating the perils of tripping over. When the early material kicked in, those pre-Dare, “is this a lecture or a song?” tracks, we nodded along, feeling ever so slightly like we were being musically briefed by a sentient ZX Spectrum. But then... Dare happened.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that we were basically gig-going from the International Space Station. Oakey’s baritone rolled out across the hall like a smooth synth-soaked sermon. “Love Action” was a joy. “The Sound of the Crowd” was glorious. And when they hit “Electric Dreams”, the whole place floated. We weren’t in our overpriced eyrie anymore. Nostalgia, delivered via vintage drum machine and lacquered fringe, straight to the soul.