The last time i stood here, the voice and guitar of Dire Staits fell like gentle rain upon my ears. I clutched to the experience. It would get me through the operating table, the surgeon’s knife and countless other little tortures. Sweet dull opium.
This time was different.
Sewed up and healed. Five rows from the stage and waiting. Audience heaving like a single pulse. Air a mixture of light and fine dust. Ears battered by deafening roars.
This time i didn’t clutch at the experience. There were no deep dark deeds to perform later. No demons waiting by the poolside. lovely lovely lovely life.
It started late. The audience booed the opening act (Poor suckers. They should have known better than to open for Mr Adams and then not take a hint) The real act was quite breathtaking. How often do you see living legend up close and throbbing vein?
He started slow. The frenzy didn’t start till later. By the time he got to Cloud No 9, Prozac tablets imploded and died.
We did wish upon a star BA. It was a nice one that brought you to age.