“This isn’t a leave it outside place, or a boys don’t cry place.”
The intensity of true millennial culture is rife in ‘Choir of Man’. Enter the hall for front row seats, and be prepared for two things to be given: a pint, and an embrace. Welcoming and warm, the quips and banter of age old friendships set the tone, the classic characters of your local haunt somehow mirrored on stage. As they dance through the audience their energy becomes infectious, and in the disabled section I spot my Nan joining in.
Serenading strangers comes second nature, even in falsetto, to the charming young patrons, stealing kisses from middle aged volunteers and sharing pints with younger audience members. With charisma this strong, stacking beer mats is as exciting as any stadium show.
Amidst beer puns and tap shoes, pint glasses rapidly decreasing in volume, hits like ‘Teenage Dream’ and ‘500 Miles’ are reinvented, both classic and modern in tandem. Laddishness is no longer a direct turn off, and even singing hands free at the urinal seems like a classy move when your harmonies are as smooth as these.
Male friendship without any of the toxicity, with all of the support and the ‘I love you’s, ‘A Choir or Man’ are wholly, unashamedly human, vulnerabilities and all. “Getting drunk is great but that’s easy. Being there … throwing open the doors to your heart and having someone throw open theirs … that is an art.” And with friendship this strong, is it any wonder they close with a standing ovation?
Abi Scaife 
Leave a comment