Return of the Goddess

I began crying. The emotions came thick and fast. Memories swirled around and grew like tumours. I cursed you and swore silently at my own weakness as the tears fell wantonly. Oh me! oh life! I cried. My stoic countenance was but a puddle of cat piss on the floor. I was reduced to a snivelling, fermented mess.

That's right, Sarah McLachlan was back in town.

The last time I saw Sarah was back in 'Nam, at the first Lilith Fair in Vancouver in '96. It was an acoustic set and I seem to remember that Sarah was competing with David Duchovny and a supposed backstage tryst with Lisa Loeb for my attention (we sat high up in the stands).

It was pouring with rain. People were moshing. To Sarah McLachlan. I looked around and said to myself, "Fuck I love a country that moshes to Sarah McLachlan."

There was no moshing at the Regent on Friday night. It was very civilised. I started crying during the first song and basically didn't stop. She. was. flawless. A fucking goddess who didn't miss a single note.

That's not to say she made all the right choices.

On Thursday she had had an interview with Nathan Buckley who told her to wear a Collingwood scarf during her first concert 'cos "they'll love you!" She was booed. On Friday night she came out during the encore with a Demons scarf on, told the story about the Collingwood Scarf Affair and conceded that she decided to wear a scarf of "a team less hated". She was booed.

I looked around and said to myself, "Fuck I love a country that has the temerity to boo Sarah McLachlan over the footie"...