How Coldplay took the Melbourne Community Choir on its global concert tour

We thought we were being scammed.

Why else would someone claiming to be working on Coldplay’s upcoming Melbourne shows on a Saturday afternoon before the band arrive in Australia land in our inbox?

The community choir that three friends and I formed six years ago and run together has nothing to do with one of the largest groups in the world.

We exist primarily in the orbit of our friends and families – and, if we’re being generous, perhaps our wider community in Melbourne’s west.

But it turns out it wasn’t a hoax… and 10 days later we’re all on a charter bus, sleep-deprived, nervous, heading to Marvel Stadium to sing with Chris Martin at each of four sold-out Melbourne shows. show in front of over 50,000 people in an evening.

I know. Bananas.

Seeing the inner workings of a global machine that had just passed the billion dollar mark in ticket sales worldwide was something else. Wildly impressive to understate it.

The sheer number of moving parts required to deliver and assemble a stage, move, connect and test sound equipment, fill inflatables and package fireworks is simply mind-boggling.

In addition, dozens of employees are needed to keep this machine moving.

As a member of the show, I’m forced to remain tight-lipped about the behind-the-scenes details, but I can say that it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

For these events, the depths of Marvel Stadium are transformed into something of a small town, bustling with industry and people racing in golf buggies, forklifts and trucks along the internal highway that circles the venue.

You hear the buzz of drills, the horns of vehicles backing up, and the induction and briefing of security teams and maintenance personnel. There is so much to take in.

Shooting flames and adrenaline rush

While we’re waiting backstage for the afternoon soundcheck with Coldplay, one of our singers appears next to me and says, “You’ve stopped talking. You never shut up.”

The enormity of what we were about to do here struck me as I looked at the empty seats of the gigantic hall, gaping open to the sky.

Our largest audience before was 550 people. And then we were very pleased with ourselves.

We’re tuned in to the sound and got tips on how best to hold individual handheld mics: “Stand right there—if you get lipstick on the mic, you’re doing it right.”

And then we go on stage, meet the four (very nice) band members, sing our part and try this stadium on for size. Sound checks go a long way in helping us calm down.

By the time the show arrives, we are ready to perform and surprisingly relaxed.

We line up on the stage, listening with wide eyes and open mouths to the sound of more than 50,000 fans singing the band’s huge hits with fervor. During the performance, we walk quickly and quietly through the swirls of confetti that have settled backstage while fireworks explode in the sky above us.

A crew member comes over and reassures us that the flames that rise into the air behind us as we sing will get a little warm, but won’t pose any danger. Flame, you say?

Yes, no problem. We can make a flame. Certainly.

As the first piano notes of “The Hours” ring out across the stadium to enthusiastic cheers and applause, we are escorted up the stairs towards the stage by torchlight… and I silently agree with myself that this number will be a pump for me. song for the rest of my days.

Looking out over the crowd, you can see a galaxy of glowing bracelets attached to each player, making even the furthest person with a nosebleed feel part of the spectacle.

Coldplay’s majestic rock ballad Fix You begins, and we share a collective moment, hidden from view, with the bass pounding in our sternums and our arms swinging in the air.

Then the song we sing begins and we enter this epic stage, driven by adrenaline and a panoramic view of a sea of ​​twinkling lights, the audience jumping like rabbits with surprised faces.

Leaving the stage with memories to last a lifetime

We sing to the audience, to each other, and to the band members, who lavish us with their beaming smiles and eye contact as, for one fleeting moment, we’re all doing this crazy thing together.

We worried for a moment that we might be bringing too much “middle-aged mom energy” to this routine, but any awkwardness melts away into the Marvel Stadium haze as we dance like no one is watching.

And then Chris Martin checks us by name and says thank you for being here, and as we leave the stage, the machine smoothly switches to the next song to hold the audience.

“NOTHING will be better than this. Never!” says one of our singers as we return to the dressing room, talking over each other, trying to quantify what just happened there.

We still can’t fully comprehend what this past week of Coldplay shows has meant to us. We are not an auditioned community choir of people who just love to sing together.

But Chris Martin makes a concerted effort to support local artists while on tour, and that inclusivity, coupled with the fact that we were very lucky to be featured in a Google search, will keep us dining at this restaurant for many years to come.

It will take us some time to land this plane.