I’m not a Belieber. I’m not exactly anti-Bieber, as I like a lot of his music (mostly the newer stuff). Well, at least the songs I’ve heard on the radio. I don’t own any of his albums. *Ducks*
To be honest, I wasn’t expecting more than screaming girls everywhere. I wasn’t even excited to go to the concert. If I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have had FOMO. Having said all that, I am very grateful for the tickets I received, as I love live entertainment. And, fine, I was curious.
However, they were suite tickets, and for the first time, suite tickets did not protect me from screaming and jumping fans. I’m not saying people in suites at concerts are generally boring, but in my experience, they’re usually not as outwardly excited.
Some parents seemed way more excited than their kids, screaming and whipping out their phones to take pictures and record their favourite songs. And by take pictures I mean get blurry images of the screens.
Some of those images looked like pictures of space: darkness everywhere with little stars (floor crowd’s phones and cameras) and a spaceship (the stage and screens). And I don’t even belieb in aliens.
I was fortunate enough to be staying at The Protea Breakwater Lodge. Hello, convenience. The room faced the entrance of The One&Only where Justin Bieber is assumed to be staying while in town. At about 15:30, there was screaming.
SCREAMING. I looked outside the window and there were some girls/fans just standing there, at the entrance, waiting to see him. Or maybe they thought they saw him, hence the screaming.
Funny thing is, it is also The World Economic Forum on Africa 2013 at the CTICC, so I’m sure there are leaders and important people staying at that hotel, being driven around in smart cars with tinted windows and a security detail. Oh, well, I’m sure they are grateful for the excitement of their arrival, Beliebers.
Before the concert, I was at Cubana, watching the “fan walk”. I know, how sad am I? It was cool to see everyone in their bright colours and clothing with Bieber splashed across it.
It was also a very interesting experience to watch girls go crazy for Caspar Lee. He was there, with 5FM, and apparently you could win VIP tickets to watch Bieber…in the same suite as him. He is such a cool kid. He’s still a kid, right? There was this group of girls, about 5 of them, and they took turns taking pics with him. Every time the flash went off and the picture was taken, they would squeal. So, I almost choked on chilli poppers five times. I could’ve died, you guys.
I got to the stadium just after Chiano Sky performed. Damn. I would’ve liked to see her perform live. Just after we entered the lift to go up to the suite, 3 EMS personnel entered the lift in response to call (someone was shaking/shivering) on x floor. Someone in the lift had said, “First call for the night, hey?” To which one of the men had responded: “This is the 15th one for the night.” Or maybe he said 50th. I’m not sure.
There were people on phones and radios going off, and I didn’t want to bother them mid-response to clarify. This is why I’m not an investigative journalist. Another person had then joked, “Just girls passing out?” The EMS guy then said, “Yes.” Seriously? He was serious. What the what?! The concert hasn’t even started and kids are fainting?! Why am I here? How?
A few minutes after I sat down and had looked around and noticed seemingly calm kids, Locnville took to the stage. Calm kids? There were no longer any in sight. They were jumping, dancing and singing along.
I prefer Locnville’s older stuff like Sun In My Pocket, but they also played some really cool stuff I’ve never heard before. Stuff with no lyrics. Stuff they just jumped around to…like you do at home…when you’re mad, or just excited, or just need to burn some energy, or trying to channel Tupac. For example. I think they need some dancers for those parts of their performance, so they (Locnville) can just burn it up on their decks together. Or whatever.
Post-Locnville, just over an hour’s worth of Michael Jackson songs had played (this means Michael Jackson opened for Bieber, right? Hahahaha. *choke*) when a ten-minute-countdown clock appeared in sync with the beginning of MJ’s Smooth Criminal along with a single bright flash.
And the crowd went crazy. I wasn’t looking at the stage at the time but you’d swear Bieber was on it the way the crowd screamed.
You’d also think the next time this would happen is when the clock hit five seconds or less. But nooooo. They. Screamed. At. Every. Minute. Marker.
Every. Single. One.
It was MENTAL. It wasn’t even like it started at one place and everyone just followed, it just happened. It’s like everyone knew to just go bos at every minute marker. After the eight-minute-marker scream, I thought “Wow! They really are freakin’ excited aren’t they?” but got over it by 05:00:00. And just when I thought those little bodies couldn’t possibly have any more sound left, they totally lost it for the last ten seconds of the countdown. Properly.
There was a really cool intro video (all the video clips, throughout the show, were cool) while the dancers took their places and Justin was getting one last strand of hair gelled down. Or up. Probably. He opened with All Around The World, featuring Ludacris. No, Luda was not there. Neither was Nicki, Usher, Will.I.Am or Jayden Smith.
From the second song, I started getting a MJ vibe: the gloves, the dance moves, even the way he sounded. Oh boy. Yawn. I hoped it would only for that one song, but it came and went throughout the show. I know he models his career on MJ’s and may use it as a template, but I didn’t expect it to be that obvious in his show. Or in his life in general: monkeys, crazy outfits, dance moves.
The concert did not make me want to buy his albums. Overall, I though it was pretty average. Now, before all the Beliebers go ape and start cursing me…if you’re a Belieber, obviously you’re going to love and adore everything he does. I don’t care what he does. Is he a great entertainer? Sure. He can sing, he’s cute and he’s a really great dancer!
If there was one thing I LOVED about his show, it was the dancing. I’m big on dancing, except Justin’s air guitar. It sucks. So awkward. It looks as if he’s having tummy cramps I can only associate with PMS, but his arms are too stiff to bend to rub and soothe his tummy. The only goosebumps I had were due to awesome choreography and the cold. At no point did I feel energized to get up and dance.
I do, however, think it was awesome that he played the drums and then gave his drum sticks away. He could’ve thrown it into the crowd, but he handed it down to one of the security personnel to “pass it onto someone” because he didn’t want to potentially hurt someone. Aww. Sweeeet. I don’t hate Bieber. I just don’t get it. And I am not “converted” after last night’s show.
Maybe you get it. How did you find it? Have any “Believe” life-changing experiences?
P.S. It’s really sweet that Bieber does the “One Less Lonely Girl” thing where a girl from the crowd is selected and then goes onto stage during the performance of JB’s song with the same title, and then gets serenaded…by JUSTIN BIEBER. Omg *scream* I saw Cape Town’s “One Less Lonely Girl”, Nelly (or Nelli/Nellie?), after the show, yesterday.
She was super cute and seemed really sweet, and still in shock. There were some people “crowding” around her, and her friends (one on either arm) took the liberty of screaching with excitement and telling people that if they had any more questions to contact her “tomorrow”. They were totally owning her and proud. Cheeky little buggers.
About The Author: Professional music video watcher and analyst. I make up words and lyrics to songs. I blame my ears for hearing wrong. I have dance-tourettes, and am prone to random fits of giggling, when I’m not ugly-laughing. I quote myself, because I haven’t yet met somebody who says sh*t like I do. Emphasis on “sh*t”. Dog person or maybe just plain bitch. Head bitch in my house. Well, my mom’s house because I’m currently homeless. I’m not that into gardening. I would be, but I’m not retired. I wish I was skinny and could say that I was a closet fatty, but I can’t fit into a closet, the shelves get in the way. I often laugh at myself… because… I understand what I mean…and almost never leave the house, so who else is going to laugh at me? Loving loser.