On paper, it sounds like the most wonderful way to see your favourite band. Intimate, up-close-and-personal, informal and just generally fun. I have my suspicions though, that those expectations must have clashed somewhat with the reality. A reality of walking into a tiny room that was louder than a hand grenade – and about as organised.

I’m thinking it was perhaps more akin to walking into a fashion show a day early. Instead of glamorous models lounging around chatting and designers musing over new collections, the scene would have been more one of chaotic disarray. Half-finished works being madly stitched together left and right, power tools grinding away at the rough edges, with half the event still under construction.

Perhaps all of that maelstrom wouldn’t have been immediately visible to visitors. Perhaps things just seemed a little scrappy. Certainly as an exercise in focussing everyone’s efforts into being ready for a certain time on a certain day, it had worked. The show must have been unrecognisable though, from the one that cruised assuredly around arenas months later.

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