The Millennium Dome Arena

A rather better appointed locker room for us today. And a positive return from the sleep cure of the previous days: most of my voice was back, albeit scratchy around the edges (Derek did admit to keeping his finger on the volume fader for my vocal out front during the show to spare the house from the notes I wasn't quite reaching). A comfortable temperature with no noticeable essences of recent previous occupants (a slight hint of Madison Cunningham's perfume? Rosin from the bows of the string section of The Heritage Orchestra?)—and not one, but three TÅGARP uplighters.

It was a genuine pleasure to see the room fill with well-wishing family and friends after we played: it had been a real buzz to perform in such an iconic venue, and it is grounding and lovely to know that it was also a buzz for people to see their mates up there on the stage. It is also grounding and lovely to get out of the tour bubble for a while and catch up on peoples' lives even if, in these interesting times, at our time of life, you know not to expect the news to be unremittingly good.

Our locker room emptied as the unmistakable bassline from Waterfront thundered around the building announcing the start of the Simple Minds monumental two hour set. I transferred my whisky into a red plastic cup (sacrilege, but the only option to take it with me into the auditorium) and went out front to take in the spectacle.

Everything felt right, sounded right. The audience were loving it. A good, good night.