If I don’t accomplish anything else this year, I can be safe in the knowledge that I have made one, very overdue, life-long achievement a reality. I have finally seen the wonder that is Kylie Minogue live on her Aphrodite Les Folies tour…
The thing with Kylie, is that she is an absolute icon…love her or hate her. I personally love her. On reflection she has, in some way, always been an integral part of my life. I loved her as a four year old, watching her finally walk down the aisle with Scott Robinson on lunch time Neighbours episodes. I loved her early Scott, Aitken and Waterman years and would oft be found dancing around to ‘I Should Be So Lucky’ in my living room. I loved her Indie-fuelled lost paradise years. I love that ‘Can’t Get You Out Of My Head’ was an anthem during my first year at Uni. I even love that my first tooth fell out, aged six and munching on a pink iced bun, whilst enviously watching The Great Min teach two lucky children The Loco-Motion dance on Jim’ll Fix It. She means a lot to me, and a lot to my best buddy Kitty, which is why we always promised we would book tickets to see her perform, it was Never Too Late….(more Min puns to follow, stay with me)!
Alas…back in October, whilst I was basking in my holiday tan and writing about embarrassing incidents with Evening Standard Units, I received a text from Kitty Dearest…Aphrodite Les Folies tour was opening another night, there were tickets left…should we go for it? Without hesitation, I put my shopping bags down and simply typed YES back to her. The moment had arrived. The Great Min was coming back to London, and we were going to be there to Step Back In Time!
Cut to a day of April showers and misty windows; I was practically pacing the floor (when I wasn’t hoovering it) in anticipation of Kitty and our friend Liz’s arrival and of what our evening with Australia’s finest female export would bring. I had Min Music from all the eras blasting out and three playsuits lined up to choose from. I had purposefully not read anything about the tour, for fear it would ruin some trick Min had up her sleeve. Even Mummy Musing knew about her entrance, not a Kylie fan herself, she was inflicted with it when I was a young child…but then I was inflicted with Michael Bolton as a youngster, and some people would call that musical abuse.
4pm came and off I trotted to meet Kitty and Liz at Victoria station. Note to self: when picking people up from said coach station, one should be advised that it is likely you will get lost, allow plenty of time for this sort of kerfuffle! A quick catch up and a decision on the playsuit (dusty pink with waistband – I thought Min would appreciate something girly), we were off to the O2, stopping off for something to eat whilst watching the sunset over Canary Wharf. Of course I couldn’t throw my Yaki Soba down my neck fast enough at the overpriced Wagamama’s situated directly opposite the Dome, sunset schmunset.
As a rule, the O2 is not my favourite venue. This is mostly due to an incident on my Birthday a few years ago, at a Duran Duran concert, during which I discovered the extent of Mummy Musing’s fear of heights. Luckily she made it through the evening, and managed to stay standing for half of it. The truth is it’s not the most homely of venues; having been designed as its own little all-you-could-ever-need universe within the snug Dome environment. It’s amazing just how many eateries, clubs and people dressed as Angels offering directions (?!) they can cram into one place. Having said all that, it really is highly unlikely that someone of Kylie’s status would be rocking up to The Garage to play in intimate surroundings, to an audience of 6 drinking warm beer, so obviously I just needed to get over myself and dive into the crowd of, what seemed like, 97% gay couples in homemade Greek headdress.
I’ll skim over the support act, The Ultragirls, simply because the name says it all and as soon as I saw one wearing bunny ears, I had to hold back an extreme urge to hurl the contents of my water bottle on stage. As far as I see, support acts for huge stars are never there to be enjoyed, unless you are at Kasabian and the guitarist is ridiculously hot….sorry, just slipped off there a little. Still, good luck to them! Nonetheless, I used the time waiting for Kylie with total efficiency - to test out the many picture/lighting options on my camera as the 9 p.m start time drew ever closer.
The lights dimmed, the screens were lit, near-naked male dancers were depicted swimming about underwater to a soundtrack of plinky fairy-tale magic, before the familiar voice of Min filled the room and the beat of Aphrodite’s title track started thumping. One elaborate clam shell opening later, there she was, resplendent, in Greek-style costume looking all smiley and extremely small. I shed a small tear at the sight of the pint-sized Goddess, unable to believe that my years of adoration had brought me to this point, I felt just like that envious 6 year old, with one iced bun and one less tooth, all over again.
Cue two hours of performance perfection. There were flying horses, flying angels, acrobats on ropes, more near-naked male dancers than I could shake a Stickels at, and an extended platform on which The Great Min rode her chariot of glory meaning that, at one point, she was less than ten metres away from me. There was a rocked-up ‘Can’t Get You…’, a dressed-down ‘Slow’, a Brazilian carnival of colour and a sincere thank you from the lady herself as she confessed to having ‘the best view in the house as we all looked amazing’. Thanks Min, you don’t look so bad yourself in your D&G get up. In truth, even as a severely heterosexual woman, one cannot help but gaze at THE BUM. 42 years old and it is the very model of a perfect posterior…how does she do it?
Two hours and 15 minutes seemed to fly by and, just when we thought all was over, Kylie reappeared in a vintage swimsuit-inspired outfit for an encore, beginning with ‘On A Night Like This’ and ending with ‘All The Lovers’. As if we needed any more choreographic fantasy to feast our eyes on, fountains of water began spraying out along the extended platform, leading to the show’s climax of Kylie, suspended above two tiers of dancers, creating a ‘human fountain’ formation. Not only that, but at each chorus, four ropes each with two dancers hanging from it, were suspended above the formation for yet more acrobatics. It’s a wonder I didn’t wake up with horrendous neck ache the following morning.
In short, Aphrodite Les Folies, was as much about fashion and style as it was music and performance. It was innovative, fun and pure magic, a complete triumph. Never in my life, have I been so awestruck by a stage set or by endless magical costume design. Every twist and turn was so perfectly portrayed, every song so brilliantly executed (and all live, of course) and even the impromptu a capella Loco Motion was note perfect.
So here I am now, enjoying taking some time back and completely unable to stop listening to my vast Kylie collection on the Ipod. It’s funny how her simple lyrics always seem to resonate though – it’s like every song from ‘Can’t Get You Out Of My Head’ to ‘Got To Be Certain’ right through to my latest favourite ‘Cupid Boy’ draws from a personal feeling or memory. I think that’s part of her appeal though, underneath the glamour and fame she’s just like the rest of us. Rihanna may have the thighs, Beyonce may have voice and Lady Gaga may have the controversy…but there will never be anyone quite like our Kylie – a fierce, fighting, timeless, beautiful Aphrodite.
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