No pass. No brief. Still here.

I didn’t have a commission.
I didn’t have a pass.
I didn’t even have a real reason.

But I did have a connection - and a feeling that this soundcheck might be worth asking for.

It started, like these things often do, with a friend of a friend and a a few chance meetings over the years.

A long-ago Camden night involving a tour bus and some Jägermeister shots. Enough shared memory to justify a message. Enough respect for their work to not let this one pass by.

So I asked.

Shamelessly.
Politely.
Directly.

And to the tour manager’s slight bemusement, I was on the list.

No official slot.
No set list.
Just a camera and a promise to stay out of the way. Which is often exactly what you need to get the shots.

There’s something about sound checks. No matter the size of the venue or the number of downloads. That gap in space and time before the crowd arrives and the lights go down.

The ritual of rewiring, the tweaking of strings and tapping of drums. And of course the 1-2 1-2 in the mic.

No posturing. No crowd energy to perform for. 

Just calibration. Nerves. Adjustments.

Which, for a photographer, means access to the rhythm of the day-to-day reality of being a band.

No pass. No shot list. Just me, watching the pieces come together.

I’ve always liked this part - the calm, the setup, the quiet logic of backstage.

Before it turns into something louder.

Hundred Reasons soundcheck at the Royal Albert Hall

This wasn’t about backstage access.

It was about what happens when you follow your instinct - and summon up the courage - to ask.

When you trust that what you see is worth capturing, even if no one’s asked you to yet.

And maybe it’s not just the band warming up in that room.
Maybe it’s you.