Florence Welch

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• Florence Welch

  I’ve seen Florence Welch perform twice. The first time way back before she became the big voiced bohemian that everyone’s mum liked, and the second around the tipping point to her becoming a bona-fide superstar. Now, if you remember, her first album was called Lungs. Lets not be cynical here, this wasn’t some hipster vogue attempt to be graphic and cool. It just describes Florence’s biggest asset: a cracking pair of lungs. Originally, I think only about 200 of the people who were there that night knew who she was. That didn’t last long. I walked in halfway through her set (she was opening an NME Awards Tour) and went straight to the toilet. On return, you could clearly see the majority of the crowd were mesmerised. Who was this red-haired singer in the floral dress? The one twirling nonsensically, occasionally stopping to strike a drum? That’d be Florence. We just stood and gawped at the vocal operatics on display. The voice was huge, even before she had the huge choruses to match. I remember someone turning to me and saying “She is going to be big!” I just nodded. And sure, everything did get bigger. The choruses, the crowds, the hits - even the hair. By the time I next saw Florence perform, it was in a headline festival slot. The voice had even grown, loud enough now to blow your high-street daisy-chain right off your head, hippy. That’s part of her charm though. While thousands scream back at her, Miss Welch contains the huge power of her voice with a calm oblivion, resulting in a pitch perfect tour of her land of wonder and whimsy. She still manages some funny dance moves, too.

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  by LennonCraig