Brussels Fan Video Clips:
"Angels", Brussels 13th June 2006
"Opening", Brussels 2006
"Let me entertain you", Brussels 13th June 2006
"Let me entertain you", Brussels 13th June 2006
"Angels", Brussels 13th June 2006
"Sin sin sin" (snippet), Brussels 13th June 2006
Brussels Fan Reviews:
by Carina Hermans - 7 Aug 2009 - 9:55pm
by Sanne87 - 9 Aug 2009 - 5:24pm
"Loved it!!! Echt geweldig.."
by bartjecocilico - 15 Aug 2009 - 9:16pm
"robbie saw my tattoo and ponting on his one and said he got the same then i was on the big screen it was super bart"
by nadiave - 22 Oct 2009 - 10:44am
by Jen05 - 13 Feb 2010 - 9:40pm
by Philip Williams - 6 Mar 2010 - 10:16pm
"It was my best experience in my life. It was fantastic, I was very close to him and he looked to my eyes and nodding to me. It was super. Yeah!!!! I saw him!!!!"
by esthervh - 18 Mar 2010 - 5:14pm
"It was absolutely fantastic best concert I ever went to, and ever since I'm praying Robbie comes back to Belgium ....."
Concert review by GurunessBrownie
Just two minutes after our arrival at the entrance for the golden circle at the Kind Baudouin stadium, the doors opened and the whole waiting crowd pushed and shoved in.
The chaos was indescribable horrible, not at all comparable with the smooth procedures of Dublin and I badly wished myself away back to Ireland.
Annoyingly the securities divested us the brought three-legged-stools at the entry.
That was why we found ourselves in the stadium forecourt with only each a bottle of water and our little bags.
We had to sit all the hours on the asphalt of the stadium forecourt - not an amusing experience, I can tell.
After four and a half hours the gates were finally opened.
Under ruthless pushing, shoving, elbowing and kicking, the people fought their ways through the small pass gates, our anyway aching bodies in the thick of it.
We had to run two long stairs down, then the whole way around the entire stadium to the opposite end of the standing area, just to cross it again, to get into the golden circle.
If someone would have told me before, that I would spend my summer with waiting before and running through stadiums and other unworthy localities - I would have said, that this someone has bats in the belfry.
But here I was, running myself once again the arse out, all the time tortured with the loudspeaker announcement: “Do NOT run! Do NOT run!!"
We finally just made it to the second row, right before the main stage, but with quite a good view.
The ardent sun was right above the stadium and to make things harder for us, they had covered the floor with some black rubber mats.
In this moment I thought that Dubai had been, compared to this, just some flyspeck - it was close and hot, there was not the slightest breath of wind.
Even my pants were wet through with sweat!
I was full of self-pity.
But we had my pocket umbrella, a fan, some wet towels and a deo.
In consideration of the aggressive and ready-for-anything seeming people, we didn't dare to leave our hard earned second row place for the toilets or to refresh ourselves.
So we knocked ourselves again into shape on the spot, shielded off from the surroundings by the umbrella.
When the sun finally started to decline, it got much more pleasant to await the concert to start.
We finally regained our strength, but also the own inner dignity.
After we had regained our essential energies, the support acts came on stage.
Other than in Dublin, the two bands, which would be our support act companions for the rest of the tour, were 'Orson' and 'Basement Jaxx'.
I had never heard of neither the one, nor the other before.
Orson didn't impress me too much in the beginning though.
But 'Basement Jaxx' rocked the house from the very first moment.
They seemed to have an inexhaustible repertoire of again and yet again other band members and their beats carried the audience, while 'Orson' had been great as well, but just somehow "cooler" in the beginning.
'Basement Jaxx' were weighty singers in always new garish, ample dresses that looked like coloured meringue chantilly.
They raised the spirits of the audience in a jiffy with their huge voices and some partly artistic, acrobatic feats.
After their performance the crowds entertained themselves with Mexican laola waves throughout the whole stadium.
Then the yet familiar, but always newly excitement stirring fireworks started to shoot off the platform.
Mr. Williams started performing and his mood seemed to increase with every song.
The best fun he seemed to have with his best mate Jonathan Wilkes, with who he always used to perform 'Me and my shadow' and 'Strong'.
They danced, joked and sang together as if they had never done anything else.
Mr. Wilkes seemed to be an important part of the show for Mr. Williams and really did his bit to make the shows to what they finally were: amazing and worth every suffering.
After some "warm up", Mr. Williams got talkative again and even started to chat of Dublin:
it would have been delightfully boobs-loaded – but what would it be like in Brussels?
Promptly several bras came thrown on stage, he immediately hang one of them around his neck.
He said, he would not doff his jacket, as long as us girls wouldn't either take off our clothes first.
And soon one girl was found, who was more than willing to hoick her top and to bare her boobs over - so to speak - the entire width of the stadium, of course shown on the big screens.
The cup size minus-A had a bit of a pitiable sight though.
Sure enough he then commented it dryly with a reserved, but polite: "You surely do your mum proud".
Unfortunately he kept his jacket on.
Just when he once changed it, he slinkily stroked his tattooed swallows on his belly, amid the enthusiastic applause of the crowd.
Another time he asked us, if we all would have been well provided with enough drinks and he looked into our direction.
The crowd cheered him on as an answer and I awaited him to go on talking.
Then he asked us the same question again, still looking towards us.
I started to feel uncomfortable.
The crowd cheered even louder.
Then he asked us the same question a third time again, still looking at us… or - heaven forbid - me??
My friend poked me into my side and gave me an encouraging nod.
Still a bit uncomfortable to have been obviously picked out for that question, I answered him with a lopsided sneer and a held back nod.
He finally seemed contented with this answer, at least he went on talking then.
I asked myself though, if I really still looked that underserved and battered, to have been addressed with this question?
But at the end I was on the quiet just happy, that he had obviously noticed me and somehow "cared" for me in a way.
Before he sang 'Back for good', he talked again about 'Take That' and their invitation to rejoin them for their tour, when he just would have remembered his own tour, for which he had even sold more than two and a half million tickets.
He said, that without him, they would be more a "Take" than a "That", but he yet sent them greetings again.
After having successfully performed the gondola stunt this time, he told us of the failed try in Dublin and that he would have got into some panic at that moment.
But as said, this time it worked excellent.
And be it because of his relief about that, because of his general own pleasure or be it because of the heat - he fortunately bared his bum to us.
I so loved his bum!
At that time we had called a friend, who's favourite song was "Let me entertain you", to let her listen to it live.
He stood right in front of us, when he did, as if he played a bit with his nuts, then turned around and dropped off his pants.
We squeaked out loud and our screams: "He dropped his pants!! He dropped his pants!!" must have deafened the girl on the phone.
After the last song "Angels" ended, the backing vocals wanted already to leave the stage, when he suddenly said to them: "Come on, let's do one last song." and then they performed "Kids" before the show was well and truly over.
Another happy "birth" had made me forget all the "birth pangs" once again...