Norwich, wow.
After the spectacular Symphony Hall I was trashed for 3 days. I couldn't get off the buzz, the high wouldn't leave me. Concentrate at work? No chance. I was in a Cavalier-induced Harley fog for 3 days, maybe more. And I didn't care.
3 days before I returned to some sort of normal, and now it feels like it's happening all over again.
I'm just in from another superlative gig, this time in Norwich. The arts centre, housed in a 15th century church (of Saint Swithun) built of solid Norfolk flint and memories, now stage to Steve, James and Barry. And boy, did they command the stage.
Gone was the grandeur and ceremony of the Symphony Hall, in it's place came a relaxed intimacy, delicious acoustics and playful new treatments of songs we know and love so well.
The acoustics of that old church were truly wonderful, and without the embellishment of 50 or so musicians it helped give space for appreciation of every note, every nuance, every word. The concert was at times beautifully lingering and mellow, and never less than absorbing.
Steve's banter with the audience was warm and unforced and he even got Norwich to sing - several times! OK, it was in that typically restrained self-conscious Norwich kinda way, but sing we did - and not even Delia Smith can get us to do that!
"Never the same twice"? Agreed. Different yes, just equally wonderful. That's my mind frazzled again until Monday!
Manchester, Glasgow . . . you'll love it!