Last night I got to see my all time favourite singer songwriter doing a gig in Edinburgh. She adorned the ceiling of my bedroom growing up and I must have spent hours, days, weeks between the age of about 17 to 23 listening to her albums, dreaming of running off to live on an Amsterdam houseboat and wishing I could write poetry like she sang it.
Twenty years of living later and she’s still the cool punk rocker she was then. And I still can’t write poetry.
Last night she played in someone’s front room in a house, an amazing house, The House in Edinburgh.
With 50, maybe 60 people in the room, two sofas away from me.
It was amazing. I was quite the star struck teenager again.
And wanting to see 5am from an Amsterdam houseboat all over again.