It’s a sign of a good show: you’ve got bruising on the back of your elbows, your ears are still ringing over twenty-four hours later and you don’t mind either of them. But I’ll start at the beginning.

I arrived ten minutes before doors were due to open to find a very small queue for a sold-out show. My resident gig partner had gone for a wander, and when she got back we decided to skip forward to stand in the giant gap some emo-looking girls had left. Foolish emo-looking girls. Doors were a good half-hour late, and by that time a huge number of people had joined the line. The first ever bag check I’ve had at Concorde 2 resulted in security taking my water away from me (grr) and we went inside to secure ourselves a good spot against the barrier.