And this is how it happens.

The rumble of bass. The stab of sleek graceful strings, that sound the way Concorde looks. Drums. And this then is the funeral. This is goodbye. But not a funeral. A wake. A joyous celebration. Emotionless, yet somehow sorrowful.

It's only songs. It's only the end of the line. There's other bands sure : other Great White Hopes. But there's joy, and desperation, trying to squeeze the last few beats out of a dying heart.

Unless you're going to Japan next week, or are friends of the band, this is the last time you will hear these songs. The last time these enfant terrible techno twins strap on their headlights and blast your senses.

Pity then, the little indie army at the front waiting patiently for the latest bland peddlers of crap, Snow Patrol, who are on after them. Pity then, those with taste who have to choose between The Pixies first Scottish show in thirteen years, and Orbital's last public show outside of Tokyo.

Sometimes, these things suck. When our lives are so short on time, so full of crud, and when great music is so rare, why then put two of the greatest bands in the world, on at the same time, merely 500 yards away from each other? It's a choice no one should have to make. Especially when later my choices veer between the drab Massive Attack and the snooze-inducing Strokes.

I go for Orbital then. I go for the ‘full' Kings Tut Wah Wah Tent. If your definition of full is a crowd by the door and an abundance of empty space in the rest of the tent, then yes, this tent is ‘full'.

So lets have it. A final, 75 minute frenzy of classics. Don't ask me to name the songs, or the order they were played in. I just know what I saw. What I felt. And what I heard. Collossal, fabulous sounds. The definitive, gutwrenching version of "Satan (Metallica)". The beautiful lament of "Belfast". The spiky, spunky brilliance of "The Box" that sounds like the soundtrack to a Stanley Kubrick film stuck through a blender. It's all over too soon.

And it is so so much better than Brixton. The acoustics for a start : I can actually hear the band clearly. And the songs? Tighter, sleeker, slicker, and suffused with the last stab of brilliance. They have never sounded better.

And this is where we came in. The huge, twenty-five minutes encore medley of "Doctor Who" and "Chime" that literally levitates us. And that's it. Over. Gone.

And it just doesn't seem final. Like there be another show, another tomorrow. Sometime. Even though the end is very nigh, it seems not like an end.

Life continues beyond despair.

Be thankful for what we had, not sorrowful for what we lost. Life will continue, enriched by memory, and enlightened. And this is where we left it. This is where we came in. Magnificence.  

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