A Symphony of Lungs: Florence and the Machine at the Royal Albert Hall for BBC Proms
That goosebump moment is a pretty good marker of a great gig. Sometimes, it hits the entire venue at once as the big moment of an artist’s biggest song rings out, and you see a hundred phones lift to capture that one specific great moment. Other times, it’s private and random when a certain lyric lands harder than usual, or the drums get your heartbeat just right. But as Florence and the Machine took to the stage at the Royal Albert Hall, helming a full orchestra for the BBC Proms, the goosebumps stood to attention instantly and never left until the violin section finally shuffled off stage.
It was always bound to be beautiful. Florence Welch’s voice, the stunning setting of the historic hall, and the guaranteed grandeur that comes with a classical orchestra—no one could hear those three things together and not do the maths. It also felt bound to be special, as the show was celebrating 15 years of Lungs, the debut album that shot Welch’s ethereal voice to deserving stardom.
But when recontextualised by Jules Buckley’s orchestration, Lungs becomes more than just an incredibly strong debut that solidified a specific niche of culture in the 2000s. Instead, it becomes the first bright beacon of Welch’s talent. There is almost a reflective sigh of appreciation.
With the orchestration feeling more reminiscent of her most recent work, now the budgets are higher in the studio, and the scale has been growing year on year with her success; it feels like those early tracks predicted that one day, they would be here, built with truly aspirational artistry. Or at least that they deserved to be here as songs like ‘Cosmic Love’, ‘Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)’ and even her cover of ‘You’ve Got The Love’ feel built to be sung with an orchestra in the grandest of halls. And it felt like I had matured along with old friends.
Even the more unexpected cuts still warranted the same awestruck reaction as the sheer beauty of the show seemed to become more and more impactful with each track. All too often forgotten cuts like ‘Hurricane Drunk’ or ‘Howl’ kept the goosebumps stood to attention as Welch’s voice weaved flawlessly between her belting power and a softness that seemed to melt in with the flutes and strings. ‘Girl With One Eye’, the strange little gothic cut, was even turned into something theatrical and gorgeous.
As the singer herself put it: “This was an album created about feeling, and I never thought anyone could add more feeling.”
The sound was absolutely pristine, which helped a lot. The Royal Albert Hall is a venue so stunning that it’s easy not to care about the details. Tonight, it felt like having headphones on, as if each instrument was perfectly mixed and directed to you.
The venue had been kitted out with a fully immersive sound rig from L-Acoustics, who boast that no matter where you are in a venue, whether you’re on the hall’s fifth floor standing or right at the front of the pit, you’ll have the exact same quality. It delivered, giving that feeling of being able to zone in on one instrument on stage and somehow hear it clearer. For something like the Proms, where most of the gig is spent sitting stationary and simply listening, it’s a necessity. You want quality rather than just volume. And with quality that good, the goosebumps were easy as it felt like Welch was singing right to each of us, to all 5900 of us, individually.
Maybe that’s what it all came down to. As I looked around the hall and saw people clapping, crying, and singing along, it felt at once like we were sharing a collective experience of beauty but each in our own individual way. This wholesome sight confirmed, with great humility, just what Lungs now means. When it was released, how many fans would’ve expected to be perched at the Proms listening on? There was a sense of pride to be found in enjoying this unlikely bastion of the joys of maturity.
Goosebumps hit the whole hall from the first note to the final bows as the beauty of Florence and the Machine was elevated to an even higher plane—one rife with memories in the undercurrent and gratitude on the surface.
