Amazingly fit for a man in his seventies, Cohen oozed charm and style. In fact, he makes style look like it’s going out of style. (If I wanted Clive James to write this I’d’ve hired him – Ed.) There was perhaps a little overmuch of the “You’re such a lovely audience” stuff and I could’ve done without the Webb Sisters and their harp routine, but at least Cohen wasn’t wearing a leprechaun outfit. And they did all the hits “everybody knows” by (broken) heart. I’d forgotten just how many classics there were. ‘Suzanne’, ‘Famous Blue Raincoat’, ‘So Long Marianne’ (I admit I sang this myself in my cracked Bob Dylan quaver), ‘There Ain’t No Cure For Love’. Sharon Robinson knocked off a fantastic solo or two and Messrs Beck and Metzger gave the younger members of the crowd some guitar lessons. Believe me, you won’t find a deeply religious old guy, moving a giant crowd to stand and cheer his deeply pessimistic philosophy so unapologetically anywhere else except possibly the Vatican. You should have been there. Hallelujah.