I went to see Sugababes last night (my wife’s a fan), and I’ll cheerfully admit I wasn’t looking forward to it. Not just because I’d be the oldest person in the audience, but because pop gigs can be dangerous things: for every slice of perfect pop there’s usually 25 hours of tedious session musician guitar wankery, mindless babble and ill-advised jazz-funk reinterpretations of the hits you’re there to hear, all in an attempt to take 30 minutes of decent tunes and fill an hour and a half of showtime.

But my god, Sugababes were superb.

Apart from the Arctic Monkeys cover.