If you want a chance, you must prepare like a medieval knight. Set up multiple accounts. Bribe your friends. Threaten your family. Use a computer, a phone, and a carrier pigeon if you have one. Do not give up after the first failed attempt. Keep refreshing until Facebook starts asking if you’re okay.
Also, consider the venue. Florence is great in a stadium, but she is a monster in a smaller theatre. I saw her at the Hammersmith Apollo once. The floor vibrated. I felt like my ribcage was being played like a harp. It was terrifying and beautiful, like being hugged by a bear who also teaches yoga.
And here’s the kicker: even if you spend a fortune and stand in the rain for three hours, you will leave the concert utterly convinced it was worth it. Every. Single. Time. Because Florence Welch doesn’t just perform; she exorcises your stress right out of you.
So go ahead. Hunt for that ticket. Drain your bank account. Explain to your landlord why rent is late. Because when the lights go down and she screams, "I am a machine and I’ll break your heart," you’ll both be broken and fixed at the same time. And you’ll need a new ticket for next year.
Just remember: the coat check fee is also a scam. But you’ll be too busy floating home to care.
