(It's ok to wear college tees after you've finished college, right? Because this has recently become my go-to outfit when I'm not toddling around in heels as high as they are long.)
What I'm really here to tell you about is Matt Corby's incredible secret garden gig in Stirling on the weekend. It was an evening of home-made pumpkin pie, friends old and new, and gorgeous tunes floating through a country garden speckled with daisies and hidden tunnels.
By now you would at least have heard his biggest radio hit so far, Brother, and his intimate live rendition was so emotionally charged, it made my heart ache to listen to it. Though everybody knew the words, nobody sung along. It was as if uttering his lyrics would be stepping too close to his heart, or insolently poking something tender in his soul. It would have been stealing something that was his alone.
That's how the relatively short set proceeded, with the crowd biting their lips and breathing shallow breaths so as not to disturb the atmosphere while Matt performed what was beyond question the best gig I've ever been to. (And I go to gigs at least every fortnight, so that's saying something.)
And on his dude-babin', I need not expatiate. Let's just say my standards in men went through the roof after standing within half a meter of Zeus himself.
Were you at any of Matt's garden gigs? What did you think?