Santos and I had crossed paths in a professional capacity a few times (well, I was professional at least…) and had an amicable enough friendship before I discovered we had a mutual love for a particular pop star. I noticed that he referenced her on Instagram here and there, and I confess that my first thought was that he was joking around or somehow mocking her. But as far as I was - am! - concerned, Carly Rae Jepson made the best pop album of 2015 and she was no laughing matter.
Eventually I began to accept that perhaps he really did love her as much as me, and that his affection was a genuine appreciation of her sublime pop bangers. It’s great when you find someone who shares a common musical interest with you. I do find that a lot of conversations about music can descend into one-upmanship - especially when actual men are involved (apologies for the sweeping generalisation, but I do speak from experience). However, when it came to Santos and Carly, he was attentive, and listened without (much) judgement when I explained that I had ideas for how Carly’s classic album Emotion could actually be improved further. We worked together diligently - as equals - to craft a new and slightly shorter version of this already incredible album. We didn’t know it was a feat that could actually be achieved, but we managed it.
During 2021 when Santos revealed that he had been recording Carly covers at home, I was both afraid for his well being and keen to hear the results. As my birthday was approaching, I requested a cover of top tier Emotion track, Warm Blood. A sybaritic number with sultry vocal about a lusty crush, Warm Blood seemed to run at a different pace to the rest of the album, and had been an immediate favourite of mine. A short while later, the Santos-version of Warm Blood landed in my inbox and it was a delight! With Type O Negative-esque vocals, and a drowsy tempo that teetered on the edge of lethargy it was - to my ears - perfect.
I instructed my long suffering partner to fire up the microphones in his studio (I don’t know what this involves) as I wanted to record some accompanying harmonies. Quite honestly, I don’t know what possessed me: I am not a singer. Anyway, I recorded my whispery vocals, had Sweet Jim glue them to Santos’ track (I don’t know what this involves), and sent it back to him. Not quite sure what he made of it to be honest, but he wasn’t openly laughing at least. However, I feel like this is a notable moment in the evolution of our fandom-connected friendship because, well, look at what we’re dealing with here: two locked-down, middle aged weirdos recording versions of pop songs that are going nowhere and are being heard by no-one but ourselves - giving each other a little glimmer of joy in the middle of a pandemic.
If you’re thinking that this is quite a sweet tale so far, hold on to your teeth because it’s about to get sweeter! Santos plays drums in a band called Old Man Gloom and in the summer of 2022 they were on tour in Europe. One day he messaged me to alert me to the fact that the day after the tour finished - in the UK no less - Carly Rae would be playing a show in London. But it was sold out. “You must know someone who can get us in?” he said. I do! I did! I am! It’s going to happen! I could tell he was doubtful that I could pull off this feat. The show was a one off, part of Somerset House’s Summer Series of concerts, which were always in high demand, and usually sold out extremely swiftly. But I knew a man who could get us in, leave it with me.
It was late on a hot summer afternoon in London when we met near Covent Garden for a pre-gig feed. We went to Condessa for some tapas and Mezcal Negronis before following the trail of glitter down to the river and into Somerset House. Upon arrival it became clear that not only were we on the guestlist, we were on the VIP guestlist; we were ushered through the fancy-looking American Express VIP entrance and into the VIP bar. Did I mention we were VIPs? We had our photos taken, we drank fancy cocktails, and we tried to play it cool, like this sort of thing happened to us all the time. We looked for celebrities but they were in painfully short supply.
Eventually we made our way through to the courtyard, passing a guy in a Full of Hell shirt on the way. Santos attempted the internationally recognised metal greeting of a nod and slight grimace, and was pointedly ignored. Slighted but undeterred, we eased in near the front where we were just a few rows back from the stage. Our closest crowd neighbours were a pre-teen girl and her dad who shared our giddy enthusiasm. As the music ramped up and stage lights started to flicker into life, the crowd cheered and Santos yelled at me: “I don’t know what to do here! I’ve only ever been to metal shows!”.
Hang on, what? You’ve never been to a non-metal show, at all?! I reassured him it was pretty much the same vibe as going to see Slayer, just with less circle pits. As Carly appeared on stage and started to sing No Drug Like Me, Santos… how can I put this? Santos lost his shit. By the time she played the second track, Emotion, he moshed his glasses clean off his face. Thankfully, Carly Rae Jepson fans are a helpful bunch and a teenage girl retrieved them from the floor.
The setlist was wall to wall bangers - mostly drawn from Emotion and her 2019 follow up, Dedicated. During her then new single, Western Wind, we debated whether we should go to the bar (it’s not Carly canon, even now) but opted to stay put and savour Every. Single. Moment. Carly was wearing a lacy black jumpsuit that had some serious Cher vibes going on, and she was in good form, telling stories and chatting between songs.
After a euphoric encore comprising When I Needed You and Cut To The Feeling, we retreated to the bar (VIP, obv), sweaty and hoarse. We spent a few moments basking in the glory of an essentially perfect concert whilst sipping on American Express sponsored cocktails (one part booze, one part capitalism), and then went our separate ways across Waterloo Bridge, into the London night.
Since then, we have both seen Carly Rae live a few times between us, and whilst typically excellent, nothing will beat that first time. Distressingly, Santos recently saw her in New York and the setlist was lacklustre - despite squeezing a mighty 26 songs and two encores in, it leaned far too heavily into her latest two releases. Sadly, plenty of time to go to the bar.
We are capable of talking about other things, sometimes we even do it, but clearly Carly is the glue that binds us. If she continues to disappoint, what will we talk about then? If her output declines, would our friendship flounder?
I guess if nothing else, we’ll always have Somerset House.
Listen to Warm Blood by Santos Montano ft. Becky Laverty
