After spending most of first year drowning my seasonally-depressed sorrows in the various pubs and the few and far between clubs, I knew something had to change; that is, if I wanted to graduate with a job offer. So this October, I decided to adopt a new attitude in order to bolster my suffering self-esteem: “apply to anything and try everything”. Essentially, I applied to things just to see if I could get in – and subsequently, am now part of fourteen societies. Now, off the back of my 9am-2am Thursdays where I have to wear clubbing clothes through seventeen hours of lectures, tutorials, lunch, golf practice, rehearsals, Mass (yes, in a church), pres and then finally clubbing, I can say my CV is rather stuffed.
One of the societies I took up was the Accidentals – an all female-identifying, all pink-wearing acapella group. Think Pitch Perfect. 2022 me, in the midst of dabbling in rather different extracurricular activities, would have been embarrassed at the idea of joining an acapella group. But in my mindset kick, I was searching for musical validation – and so I auditioned and subsequently got in. And safe to say, I enjoy it more than I thought I would.
Last month, our group was approached by Mermaids to perform at the Christmas Ball and to be frank, it sent a shiver down my spine. I knew I could perform, but to do it in front of people I knew? That was a whole other thing. However, I had no choice; I had fallen in love with the girls, and to let them down was not something I wanted to do, no matter how nervous I was. The show had to go on.
After weeks of preparation and a few gigs here and there, the fateful day finally arrived. We, along with the committee and our fellow acapella group The Other Guys, were loaded onto a bus in our finest regalia (a dress from PrettyLittleThing) and driven to Kinkell Byre at 19:00. Shepherded through various halls and bars, we were led to our stage for the night – the Marquee. Having arrived completely sober and seemingly an hour and a half before the attendees (as thus, our friends), everything seemed a little unorganised. The Head of Performers was running around like a headless chicken between the stages in an attempt to sort the logistics out before upwards of a thousand people arrived in droves. Consequently, we were left to fend for ourselves. After about fifty minutes of wandering about aimlessly and annoying The Other Guys, TOG, eventually gathered the courage to start their sound check. Then, after a lot of microphone squealing mixed with the occasional smooth vocal run,they graciously stepped aside for our turn. With just 10 minutes to go until their real performance, we were ushered up to a stage set up that, naturally, was different to what we had been told.
21:00 was TOG’s slot, and of course, their talents gathered a large crowd – because for some reason unbeknownst to me, a proportion of St Andrews finds singing men really attractive. But, time ran away from them, as it does to anyone without a clock in view, and they ran ten minutes over their allotted time. For us this was no big deal, so once they had worked their magic, we clambered up the stage to take over and showcase our special version of “female empowerment” (as told to us by a SACC judge).
Singing classic Christmas songs with a few musical theatre showstoppers somehow retained the crowd TOG (and Guy’s double bass impression) had served us with, and soon enough, it was my turn to solo. When I told the girls that “Good 4 You” by Olivia Rodrigo was not my song of choice, they should have listened to me – no amount of practice I have at yapping could prepare me for the amount of words she somehow injected into that rant of a song. Not to mention, it was the song my ex used to play for me just to grind my gears. Karma really has a sense of humour. However, in front of a very drunk, seemingly happy-to-be-there crowd, you quickly realised that it didn’t matter. With TOG as our personal cheerleaders and the crowd attempting to slur along to the words, it didn’t matter how or even what I did, I just knew I liked doing it.
Nearing the end of our set, however, we were stopped by the Sound Engineer as we were running late. This, of course, was not our fault – I had checked my watch which I had decided was a great accessory to a dress – we were on our schedule, but the whole night was slightly delayed because of the previous performers. The sound engineer, naturally, stormed the stage and turned off our microphones, insisting that we get off the stage to make way for the next performance – but we weren’t giving up easily. After a few minutes debating – in front of a large and drunk crowd, might I add – we managed to negotiate one more song before we were herded off the stage.
It left a bad taste in the mouth. Apparently (although you didn’t hear this from me), other parts of the night had been disrupted due to the Sound Engineer leaving the ball in order to buy a new vape. This is something relatable to a lot of the St Andrews cohort, but perhaps neither the right time nor place. It just spoke of the event being poorly organised. Last year, as just an attendee, these things didn’t cross my (very inebriated) mind, but as someone performing in front of people you know with already astronomical levels of social anxiety, this was hard to accept.
The rest of the ball was smooth sailing (mostly because we were given free prosecco), but tiredness quickly hit – after being at Kinkell Byre for five hours, the large part of us headed out by 01:00 – a complete let down for the legacy of any St Andrews ball.
Due to its seemingly poor organisation and the rather irascible Sound Engineer, Christmas Ball as a performer was a bit of a let down. With negotiated free tickets and the free drinks, many of our woes from our performance were quickly forgotten and the night was rescued, but for our first formal gig as the 30th generation, it was a little underwhelming. Maybe because I wanted it to be something it was not, or maybe because I wanted to get up on that stage and feel at home. But the crowd was doing what it needed to, and the magic of performing and the magic of the St Andrews ball surrounded us still.