Today I got the best kind of text message you can get. It read: Do you have plans tonight? And do you want to go on an adventure?
Hi! I’m Carrie-Ann, and I usually write personal essays and yoga sequences, but lucky me, I have friends (Leora!) in cool places (this website!) who get me a last-minute pass to a sold-out show (George Ezra!!!) and all I have to do is write about it. I’d hoped to see him at Osheaga last summer, but bad weather kept his plane grounded, so I was more than happy to bail on my dinner plans and scarf down a sandwich en route to the show, because, god’s honest truth, I tried to buy tickets for it. All this, because his hit “Budapest” features heavily on my yoga class playlists. I had no idea what it’s about, but I love the city and anything that crosses the line between a croon and a yodel.
I showed up a few minutes after 8:00 pm, and Noah Kahan and his band were already rocking out to a packed theatre. The perfect opener, his style perfectly compliments George Ezra’s bluesy folk-rock. I was hearing a slowed down Jason Mraz, lyrics that were emo without being angsty, and melodies that had me dancing along after just a few chords. Tiny bit of a yodel-falsetto happening on some tracks, I can’t lie, but nothing that sounded like something George Ezra would play. (Not that I knew this at the time since the only song I knew of George’s was still… “Budapest”.) He promised to “play us some sad shit”, which I wasn’t sure I was down for, but his rhythm and his voice turned “Sink” into a lullaby that soothed my nerves. The incredible lyrics to “Please” had me hooked, even as I noted that the chorus sounded remarkably like something off The Lumineers’ album. Not a bad thing, if, like me, you wish The Lumineers still played these smaller venues.
Noah finished off his set with two hits, the catchy, foot-stomping “Hurt Somebody”, and “Young Blood”, for which the crowd went wild, clapping and singing along. He was lovely, and I miss him, and I will be at his next show, singing along to every single song.
And then it was time for George. After a short setup, he and his band entered to the Austin Powers theme and got the fun started straightaway with “Cassy O”. Johnny Cash lives! George was clearly vibing off the infectious joy of the crowd, singing along and dancing in a way that made the yoga teacher in me worry about his knees. He then introduced himself and his British accent was all the explanation I needed for his choice of entry.
As a writer, I found George relatable – he described for us a morning like any other when he woke up and said to himself, “shit, you really need to write some songs.” But, easily distracted at home by mundane things, he did the sensible thing and had his manager book him several months stay in a stranger’s apartment in Barcelona, hence the title of his album, “Staying at Tamara’s”. He segued into the song named after that city, which is a perfect travelling song, and joked around comfortably with the crowd, saying “aww, George” and faux-sulking when he talked about catching a cold, pointing out that “none of us has a clue what we’re doing”, and dedicating “Pretty Shining People” to “overthinkers and second-guessers”.
I took that as my cue to stop taking so many notes and revel in the next few songs. We all sang along to “Don’t Matter Now”, and our collective heart broke a little when he played “Hold My Girl”, a song I know I’ll play so often that my husband will learn the lyrics and it will be added to the growing, beloved pile of songs we call ours.
Before playing “All My Love”, George asked us if we were in the mood for a little dance. It’s just a suggestion, but I think this is a great one to twirl your partner to. “Blame it on Me” followed with a lot of dancing, and “Shotgun” had me planning my summer road trip. The show ended too soon, and even though we all knew he wouldn’t leave us high and dry, we still made a great show of whistling, woooo-ing, and stomping our feet. He came back out and covered Rudimental’s “These Days”, followed by “Leaving It Up to You”.
I had trouble following a story about George buying a bottle of rum from a man in a park in an unnamed city to avoid the indignity of watching Eurovision sober, but he came around to explain how “Budapest” got its name, and what it has meant to him to owe his popularity to that track. He wasn’t petty and didn’t complain about how it’s the only song most people (that’s me) know. Instead, he expressed gratitude for everything that this famous song – one he wrote when he was still singing in dive bars – had brought him. Then he sang the song that made him famous, and when he finished he smiled that wide, contagious grin at all of us. It was a shared moment of gratitude between the crowd and the artist, who had already shared his wit, his empathy, and his light.
Namaste, George Ezra.
Setlist:
Cassy O’
Get Away
Barcelona
Pretty Shining People
Listen to the Man
Saviour
Don’t Matter Now
Paradise
Song 6
Hold My Girl
All My Love
Blame It on Me
Shotgun
Encore:
These Days
(Rudimental cover)
Leaving It Up to You
Budapest
Review – Carrie-Ann Kloda
Photos – Arianne Bergeron
