Last Chance on the Stairway

Somehow I have allowed nearly three weeks to pass since I was in the presence of Simon le Bon's arse and have not blogged about it. My excuse is that I was too overwhelmed by the wonder of the entire experience to write about it; I needed a substantial gap in proximity and time to reflect on the event in order to achieve any sort of critical autonomy. In fact I've just been majorly lazy.

On arrival we went to our seats to find that we had been moved from the rear of the stadium to the very front where I had a side-view of Simon's rear throughout. Hurrah! The gentleman in question is in one of his rather inflated periods but I feel that just gives you more to grab on to. If you're Yasmin. Curses.

Unfortunately Duran Duran are a serious musical outfit who release new albums. This meant the audience had to sit politely through all the new 'Red Carpet Massacre' stuff before standing up and howling dementedly at 'Wild Boys'. Hurrah, we thought, the 80s hits juggernaut is back on the highway of outstanding wonderfulness. Or maybe we didn't.

The highlight of the evening for me was the electro section where they did 'Last Chance on the Stairway'. My co-Duranie and I howled through that like the mistral over the southern Languedoc. Now there's a simile you don't expect to find in an almost completely unread Duran blog.

The demographic of the audience was quite specialist. Frankly, the only people younger than 33 were the children of hardcore Duranies. There were so many late 30s women in the auditorium that the smell of oestrogen and failing pelvic floors was palpable.

So, I have worshipped at the temple of Duran again. Man, it was good.