Queen, The Darkness, and The Boomtown Rats? On the one bill? You don’t get many of them to the pound! Throw in this freakishly marvellous weather we’re having and surely nothing could go wrong? And you know what? Nothing did.

Hot Press was propping up the bar when The Darkness came on, a few minutes early, so I ran – ran, mind you - towards the stage. Justin Hawkins appears to have gotten his hands on one of Michael Jackson’s old stage outfits, a leather jacket of a colour previously unseen in nature, but not to worry; he doesn’t keep it on long. Neither would I if I had a physique honed on a diet of laxatives and humus. The opening hat trick of ‘Solid Gold’, ‘Growing On Me’, and ‘ Japanese Prisoner Of Love’ is as superb as one would expect, offering ample opportunity for chest beating, arse wiggling, and guitar wangling. A blast through ‘Love Is Only A Feeling’ and, from last year’s mind-blowingly good Pinewood Smile, ‘Buccaneers of Hispaniola’, before Hawkins struts out to the end of the platform that divides the crowd, throws a few shapes and falls to his knees. Fucking easy when you know how. You have to admire the big round balls on Taylor and May, allowing these young (ish) Gods of rock to open for them - this gig might peak while they’re still in the dressing room. Hawkins explains why they came on five minutes early; it was for us, his people. However, they are not rebels, he continues, but pussies, but not that kind of pussy, objectification is wrong. He’s confused. “Fuck off. All of you” is his simple, yet effective, way out of this sophistic blind alley.

Back to business, he does a handstand on the drum riser during ‘Get Your Hands Off Of My Woman’, compliments his own beauty with a “I’m not a piece of meat” philosophical gambit, and gives us a snatch (I meant that) of Clapton’s ‘Wonderful Tonight’ before the band lay waste to the fast growing crowd with the closing ‘I Believe In A Thing Called Love’.