Even if I was good, in spite of what Gail might say, this cannot possibly describe how good it was.

But first, some background.  Music.  I like music but, with the exception of some songs/artists, I wouldn’t call myself a ‘music lover’.  I like what I like – some of it good and some of it, maybe, to you, bad.  I wasn’t brought up in a house full of music even if my paternal grandmother taught us to play the piano (well, “play” – I say play in the loosest sense).  Certainly it was not a household filled with classical music, my parents never really going in for record buying in a big way.

I found music at about the age of 13 when I was given a radio for Christmas and my maternal grandmother introduced me to Top of the Pops and, in particular, Mott the Hoople (because my mother used to sit on the same school bus as Mick Ralphs).  I listened to a crackly, distorted Radio Luxembourg, late at night, under the bedclothes.

My passion was voices and, especially, the more unusual, rougher, deep voices – ones that seemed to have something to say (or sing).

And then I started to go to concerts.  Many, many concerts.  I loved (still love) going to concerts.  There’s something about seeing someone ‘live’ that just cannot be captured by disc.

But, there was always a point in the concert (every concert) that I really disliked, almost hated.  This was the part where the musicians showed off their talent with whatever instrument they played.  I found (find) it boring.  Improvisation – just another word for making noise.  I mean I could tell they were talented but that didn’t make it enjoyable for me.  It’s noise without words and, for me, a song is all about the words and the singers voice.

We were going to see Pat Metheny.  F had played some tracks to me on several occasions.  But ours is a new relationship and I don’t want to say that I find it rubbish (which isn’t exactly true since I can tell he has great skill – it’s just boring).  He loves Pat Metheny and what he loves I love (but for entirely different reasons).  I bought the tickets.  €50 a pop!  And I wasn’t even going to enjoy it!

And so, it was last night.  At Teatro Smeraldo in Milan.  OK, so I would be bored but, at least, given he was away last week and we are both away this week, we would be together and maybe have a beer and pizza or something.

I wanted to go for a beer first but he was excited and wanted to go in and take our seats.  OK, I get it.  I would be the same for me with someone like Joan.  We go in and sit down.  I got the tickets late so we are near the back but, maybe, this will be better – at least for me.

The crowd is younger (not that young but younger than me) than I expected.  Full of nerdy-type people who listen to music without vocals.  Ah well, it will only be a couple of hours, I say to myself.

The lights dim and the crowd, whilst not exactly going wild, cheer and clap and are obviously keen to see ‘the man’.  I clap politely, as one does.  I am happy for F who is very excited about this.

The man comes on looking a little like a throw-back from the 60s.  He plays his guitar(s).  I try not to be bored.  I try to listen.  It’s OK, I suppose but I can’t help thinking that a bit of vocals never really hurt any song.  The songs he plays go on a little long for me.  About 3 minutes too long if I am honest.

And then…………

WARNING – if you intend to see him on his latest tour, I suggest you don’t read the rest of this as you will appreciate it so much more if it is a surprise.  If you’re one of those people not going to see him or who are but always find your Christmas presents before Christmas………..then carry on

………….. the audience gasp!  The stage, seemingly so small, is revealed as being much bigger by curtains being removed and behind him is a collection of instruments, which are playing without people.

It reminded me of something you might see in the Music Master’s classroom at Hogwarts – if there had ever been a need for a Music Master, of course.

The instruments were playing themselves.  When a particular instrument played a ‘strobe-type’ light flickered so you could see which one was playing.  It was a full band, just without the band members.  You could see some wires but not that many.  The piano played without the need for fingers and feet.  The drums boomed without the need for hands holding sticks.  It was as if everything was being done by magic and it did take your breath away.

To be honest it made it so much more interesting.  Moreso, later in the concert, when he tried to show how it all worked and how he controlled everything from his guitar and using his feet, by doing a little improvisation.  It was fascinating.

The lighting was set up so that it was as if there was a real band behind him not a load of instruments without owners.  They also splayed a video of him in the studio over the banks of instruments.

The time went quickly and I was not bored.  One of the most memorable concerts I have ever been to see.  He was a one-man band but in a truly glorious way.  Fabulous.

Worth seeing even if you have read all this but the unveiling of the ‘band’ was incredible – the gasp from the audience genuine.

I leave you with this, which shows you what I have been talking about – even if, to see it live is so much better.