Has anyone ever loved a band so much and luckily gotten the chance to see that band live during the peak of obsession, which then results an endless post-gig depression? 5 and a half months later after seeing Foals at Laneway Festival Singapore, I still feel extremely sad whenever I think about that day, and I truly miss everything about it - the horrendous weather, the mud slide covered in darkness, the ankle-height flood, the transparent ponchos, the annoying person beside us who didn't want to close her umbrella while water was sliding down my face - really, everything. I was (at one point) tired of all the things occurring before Foals' set. All I could think about was either a bed or a sofa and how comfy they are. My friend and I haven't sat down for more or less 10 hours, forgot about dinner (neither of us felt hungry), I only drank once (to prevent passing out after Warpaint), and neither of us used the toilet ever since we arrived at the venue. Although all of that went out the window when my friend spotted Edwin at the side of the stage. Seriously, we went wild. We kept screaming all of his nicknames (you might think we're creepers at this point). One by one, the members of Foals appeared at the side of the stage. We saw everyone but Yannis -- he was sick that day (kudos to him for still giving me the best time of my life).
Anyway, the reality that I won't be seeing them for god knows how many months/years is awful. The fact that I'm only going to be 4 hours away from them in July isn't helping either. It got a bit better when I saw their Coachella 'live stream'. But whenever it rains, I still think about everything that happened that day. I'm still surprised that I didn't get sick after all that fatigue. At the end, it goes down to this: Wannip, Beaker, Captain Hazard, Chipotle, Elvin Barbosa Smith, please come back to South-East Asia and blow our minds for one more time.
