While we hemmed and hawed much of the day away over how exactly we were going to snag prime spots for the McCartney show, we did manage to see a few other bands too, including Of Monsters & Men, Passion Pit, tried for Wu-Tang Clan but couldn't get in (crowd control is a cruel mistress), as well as Pretty Lights later on in the night.
Passion Pit as seen perched in the rafters on the side of the main stage...
Look at that crowd!!
Before we knew it, the big moment had arrived. It was time. Being VIPers, you might assume we had it easy; saunter right up with no hassle to premium viewing spots. While it is sometimes like that for smaller bands, McCartney is a whole other animal. The large pit directly in front of the stage, reserved for fans who have waited in line for 16 hours (literally) and those with "Artist" bracelets like us, holds about 2,000 while the rest of the 80,000 festivalgoers fan out behind forming a huge mass of swaying bodies. I can't imagine what it must be like to be 30,000 people back trying to catch even a glimpse of the action on stage. While there are large video screens to help those in the far rear, being up close and personal makes a huge difference.
As the clock neared 8:00, we dutifully jammed into the small fenced-in "waiting area" along with hundreds of others, until 8:30 when the gates swing open and everyone designated to the pit rushes in, pushing and shoving, to get as close to the stage as physically possible. If that means trampling fellow concertgoers, so be it. As the flood of people raced in, we made a mad dash for the front, planted ourselves as close to the stage as we could get, and proceeded to "stand wide." Can't have anyone else weaseling ahead once prime placement is established! Giddy with excitement, having secured ourselves about fifteen rows from the stage, the next 30 minutes of waiting flew by in a blur of Facebook updates ("About to see Paul McCartney live!") and Tweets (#McCartney #SoCloseToStage) and just like that it was 9:00.
As the crowd chanted his name in fervent anticipation, Paul (yes we're on a first name basis) emerged to the immediate eruption of deafening cheers and raucous applause. To say people were excited would be an understatement.
It was pretty magical seeing him in the flesh only a few short yards away. Almost close enough to reach out and touch.
Launching into his set, he played with surprising energy and polish (the man is 72!), waving peace signs to the crowd and punctuating breaks between songs with charming anecdotes of him with Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton in the early years. Only Sir Paul can get away with telling a story featuring the names Hendrix and Clapton and not sound like a total name-dropper.
As he played one Beatles hit after another, "Let It Be," "And I Love Her," "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da," "We Can Work It Out," "Blackbird," "All My Loving," "Eight Days A Week," "Paperback Writer," "Live And Let Die," plus other songs from his Wings albums, the audience sang along virtually the entire time. He easily held the whole crowd in the palm of his hand.
Here is "Blackbird"...
And "Paperback Writer"...
And "Let It Be"...
As the scheduled end time of 11:30 neared, the crowd grew agitated eager to hear that song. Finally, to close out the set, the beginning notes of "Hey Jude" rang out sending everyone into a wild mass voice of Nah-Nah-Nah'ers. Little did we know, not one but two encores were to follow featuring crazy pyrotechnics and a shower of confetti! When Paul finally left the stage for the last time, with confetti squares still raining down around us and fireworks erupting above, the air felt magically electric. Without a doubt, one of the best concerts I've ever been to.
How will Day 3 ever manage to top that?!
*Thank you to Alex and Kristin for taking some of these photos & videos, their height advantage proving crucial to capturing anything other than the back of fellow concertgoers heads.
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