Scheiß auf Spotify Wrapped, ich will ARD-Mediathek-Wrapped, damit ich mich in der Vorweihnachtszeit darin suhlen kann, wie erbärmlich viel Lebenszeit ich für fiktive Cops aufwende.
“We love you guys. Alright I’m not gonna talk right now, this isn’t a talking bit. I just wanted to say all of the theatrics with the drip, I’m - I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to have to say that I’m very sick. But we couldn’t miss coming to see you guys, we love you so much. We were actually going to have to come tomorrow, we did cancel at one point, but! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re The 1975 and this is A Change of Heart.”
— Matty Healy before singing A Change of Heart in Vancouver (November 29, 2023)
Matty read this! Thank you all so much for everything you’ve done and the kind words. It’s only been a few days since I posted this anecdote and we’ve already managed to get the man to read it. Endless love to you all…
(Update) New vine I found of Matty comforting me: https://vine.co/v/OreJXnZlbwt
Follow me on Twitter: @jordrizzle
Please read before watching…
I would like to preface this by stating that I attended The 1975 concert at the House of Blues in Boston on December 6th of 2014 (last night as I write this). It was a rather tragic show, not musically, but undoubtedly mentally draining for Matty. I could tell from the moment “The City” started to play that he wasn’t his normal quirky self, but a soul distracted, and no one could pinpoint as to what the genesis was for his pain. He probably misses home immensely, but we have no idea what’s going on in this poor boy’s life. It hurts me that Matty hurts, and it haunts me that I can’t help to change it.
Rewind to June 25, 2014. My mother, Marcy, a 54 year old poisoned by cancer, lay senseless in her hospital bed installed in our temporary home. For the prior two years I had slowly watched my mother deteriorate as the illness ate her alive. At 16, I became an adult, and was forced into dealing with so many aspects of life most don’t face until they’ve got a job and family of their own. Be that as it may, that morning, I was told by a social worker that my mother was going to die that day. I had no choice but to accept my mum’s fate, and my unpredictable future. A nurse notified me that hearing is the last sense to leave the body, so I’d be able to utter everything I needed to my mom regardless if she could express a response. Talking to a practically lifeless body is strange despite the fact that they can hear you, and I don’t want to have to do so again. Amongst my collection of “I love yous” and tears inevitably falling, I did ask her to make a promise with me: she would be with me at every concert. The absolute only reason I am alive is due to music. It’s my therapy and muse. I’d easily commit suicide if music wasn’t a vital component to my life. There was so much I still wanted to say, but I couldn’t look at my mother anymore. I hope none of you ever have to look at someone you love on the brink of death, and I especially hope it’s not your mother. I don’t remember much of that day nor did I want to, but I do recall the fact that I was in my room sitting on my bed criss-crossed legged, and, of course, listening to music. I don’t know the time exactly, I believe it was at some point in the afternoon since the sun was shining through my window which it only did at around 1 PM, but my door swung open. No one ever goes in my room, and I knew simply in that instant my mum had died. I was left parentless since my ass of a father left when I was a baby. I was forced to move in with family that I’ve seen so little, that I could count on one hand the amount of times we’ve encountered each other. I don’t remember anything that happened after that. The only other memory I can recollect is sitting in silence for a few minutes. I’d say it took approximately five for me to actually feel anything, and unfortunately, it felt like like someone gutted a hole right through my stomach. Those five minutes were just a void. I’d been awfully depressed, exceedingly enraged at the world, and radically happy, but I’ve never felt void. It’s like I had forgotten how to feel. It wasn’t until I had glanced back down to my laptop screen that I learned what emotions were again. My following tears weren’t 100% a result of pain, but contentment as I knew my mom passed in the instant that she did for a reason. On my computer screen read “The City - The 1975” which was (and still is) easily my favorite song. My mother always understood my undying love for music, and the comfort it cushioned me with. She wouldn’t want me to fall into a deeper depression because of her, but would want me to seize every opportunity I can grasp. There is no good condition for someone loved to pass away in, however there are safety nets that may help ease the burning wounds erupting in one’s heart. I know my mother died to my favorite song and band for a reason as they make me feel free. She wanted her soul to be freed of illness just as I wanted my life to be free. It’s the small elements that cling to one’s memory that subdue the pain. My mom died when there was 1:20 left in the song. I don’t know why I remember this aspect, but maybe I’m meant to and I’ll figure it out at some time. Regardless, I now feel as if I have to listen to the city every single day. It’s a connection I share with my mother in which I know she’s omnipresent, an infinite being there at my side. I adore The 1975 and had listened to them probably about about a year or slightly more before to my mother’s death. Yet, for some reason I had never listened to “Is there Somebody Who Can Watch You.” Ironically, it’s now a staple in my music library, but I never fancied ballads or songs with a slower tempo so I always seemed to skip it. I took my first listen the night my mother died, and have never related to a song more. It truly felt like my mother was playing this for me as if to ask me if there was someone to watch me? Who would love me? I know she’s in her home, and I know she’s got me, and because of The 1975, I know my mom will always be in my heart when their music plays. Their music has become more than any melody that I praise in admiration, but a part of my persona. Music tastes change but whether I’m 17 or 107, I’ll always have an emotional attachment to The 1975.
December 6, 2014- The 1975 concert in Boston, Massachusetts. I knew I wanted to let Matty and the rest of the band know how thankful I am for their influence, but I wasn’t sure how to approach this. The 1975 are rapidly gaining fame, and I knew if I didn’t make an outlandish sign that was quite blunt at this show, I may never get to do so again. The days of their intimate shows are limited, and I wanted to seize my opportunity as my mother would’ve desired. I brought a small sign saying “My mom died as The City played. Thank u 4 making her last moments special.” I knew I was getting barricade as I got to the venue at 4am, so I wasn’t concerned about him not seeing it. Eventually, I took my spot on the center-right barricade. If anyone has seen a The 1975 show, I was directly in front of the amp Matty tends to sit/ stand on. I did not want to hold my sign up as the show began as I wanted to experience the moment and give the band the respect they deserve. Personally, I wouldn’t want such a blatant, morbid phrase to be the first view of the crowd in a strange city if I was performing. I adored the first few songs as they were flawlessly executed by these musical masters. At one point, before introducing “Me,” the lights slightly brightened as Matty began to make a speech. He started on the left side and gradually wandered toward the right as he thanked the crowd and ran his fingers through his curls. As he approached, I held up my sign at which point I saw him look at, but he did not read. Matty ultimately stood on the amp in front of me and asked the crowd if they’ve been to a The 1975 show previously. As the crowd cheered he peered down and read my now tattered sign. His demeanor immediately changed as he quizzically bit his lip and looked back at his bandmates. I had not expected Matty to do more than blow me a kiss, however, what he did stunned me. Matty sighed, put his microphone down, and looked directly at me. He told me he loved me, that he was so sorry I had lost my mum, and asked if I was doing okay a probable 6 or 7 times. We exchanged other words, but I’d like to keep them private. I was astounded that a man I had never met before cared enough about me to ask if I was feeling well. He didn’t even need to express words as his face exhibited pure pain and sympathy. As Matty resumed the show, Ross stared at me for awhile, and George seemed to have gotten a hint as his facial expression drastically changed as Matty came over to him just after. The family I live with won’t tell me “I love you” but this beautiful man would say it 1,000 times if I asked him too.
I do wish Matty would have come out after the show as I would have loved to fully express my thanks. I wanted to have him write out “The City” or something inspirational so I could get it tattooed on my upper left rib to be close to my heart. However, Matty seemed distraught all night and I would not want him to have met fans in that condition regardless. I wish I could take his pain away as such an alluring human does not deserve that depression. His breakdown was hauntingly beautiful as its rawness emanated through the venue. I could physically feel his passion inside me building up that it was almost painful. No event has ever given me such a drive to be myself and attain my desires.
Matty Healy is the definition of altruism. He asked me how I was feeling, and the least I can do is ask the same for him. I want Matty to be the healthy, spunky boy that dances like a freak across the stage as I saw in September. This December show was different as it was not fun and quirky, but disturbing and captivating. I miss Matty more than anything, and I can only hope that after two failed attempts of trying to meet him, my third is a success one day. I’m forever grateful that I experienced a side of Matty not many are able to see.
Matty is the epitome of an old soul, and I can’t thank him enough for what he has done for me. I love you, Matty, so much more than you will ever know. xx - Jordyn
I did not take the video. I’m lucky enough to have found a recording someone had made on Youtube. Link to the full original video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1N2I22u_ucw&list=UUkBDH4XStMVY28CF2AmBZIw
If you’ve read this far, please help me get Matty to see this.
iminabandwithtrees posted a video to Instagram: Aw! Matty’s in love ❤ I love how giddy he seems ❤ All the best to him and Gabby ❤ 📸: adrianaximenagr (Twitter) via the1975_tour (Twitter) #the1975 #the1975enMexico #mattyhealy #ifttt http://ift.tt/2otyVJl
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