When I booked it was simply about having a last chance to see a legend, with the strong suspicion that the old boy would be dialling it in.

He was absolutely gobsmacking; that was one surprise. The band was tight, his playing, singing and dancing breathtaking. But much more surprising, to me, was the warmth of his charisma. I expected a preening, cold weirdo, and got a tiny little man in spiked cuban heels who interacted with his audience, laughed and smiled with those at the front, chucked them picks on demand and genuinely tried to please the enormous crowd.

It would have been worth the ticket price just to see a misrable, bored old bloke play Purple Rain, but this wasn't a Van Morrison performance, it was more like Bruce Springsteen.

So he was good. That's just science.