Certain truths of note in preparation for seeing Elton John and his band in 2008: Know firstly that throat surgery performed on these very shores in the 80s robbed Elton John of his falsetto and turned him from a tenor into a baritone. So that two octave slide up to that castrati note in Rocket Man? Forget it. Know also when entering the Entertainment Centre and looking at the stage, that you have entered The Land That Sartorial Style Forgot. There will be long hair on old dudes, a costume change into casual sporting wear (shorts included), double necked guitars will appear and Reg will wear one of those weird, embroidered cassocks he’s so partial too. Know also that if you agree to go along with me, I will dance to I’m Still Standing and I will not care how ridiculous I, or you by association, will look. All good? Let’s go.

Oh, and I will not hear a word against Elton John’s catalogue from 1970-1983, inclusive. All after that is fair game, but to my ears those first several records are song-writing masterworks. The Broadway stuff however, blows gorillas.

OK! While Elton John’s last visit, solo, was somewhat rife for parody, this time he is armed with the original Elton John Band (minus Dee Murray). So, with the addition of percussionist/backing vocalist John Mahon (who hits all the high notes), and Guy Babylon on synths and sequencers, that meant hearing arrangements in all their four part harmony/Spectoresque/glam-tinged/bluesy/honky tonk glory. Paul Buckmaster’s arrangements to songs like the psychedelic, 11 minute epic, opener Funeral For Friend/Love Lies Bleeding (the first half of which was penned on a cheery afternoon Elton John once spent pondering his own funeral and what he would like to hear played at it, presumably by someone else.)

From there the set sallied forth with The Bitch Is Back, Madman Across the Water and “one for all the ladies here”, Tiny Dancer – which saw many mobiles held aloft, likely phoning home hundreds of Almost Famous moments to the absent. This all bode well for a set that would be mercifully short on material from the 90s barring Sacrifice (during which we lay back and thought of England, er, something else), and a track from Billy Elliott in honour of the six tykes who play him in the musical being in the house – complete with their own dedication from the stage. Aw, how cute/slightly creepy.

For whatever reason, the graphics and projections look like they were made – as so astutely noted by my colleague – in Microsoft paint. In essence you could have closed your eyes the whole night and have just absorbed the huge, pristine sound of the 6-piece band. But if you did that you would have missed seeing Elton John get up to do his Two Handed Pointing Thing After Every Song, his Straddling Awkwardly The Piano From The Stool Manoeuvre, and most impressive/terrifyingly, his 60 Year Old Man’s Attempt At A Handstand From The Piano Lid, which he thankfully pulled off, thus saving this review from beginning “Elton John died tonight, when his second vertebrae snapped to a sickening crunch which engulfed the Entertainment Centre.” Props to the old people – they still got it! Just.

After that, I was lost in a nostalgic reverie, back on my parent’s floor, 10 years old and listening to Honky Chateau and Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. In a set that pushed two and a half hours of non-stop performance (with a small break to sign autographs for the entire front row, as he does every show), Elton John works damn hard. He doesn’t tour for money, he has more money than Gene Simmons and God put together – in spite of his best efforts to put most of it up his nose back in the day. He does it because he is a consummate showman, born to perform. And though he’s spent his life singing someone else’s story (Bernie Taupin’s), that performance still infused with authenticity. When he belts out I’m Still Standing (better than I ever did/ Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid) you believe it, even if in reality he looks more like your rotund aunty than he does a little kid.

Take Me To The Pilot, I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues, Someone Saved My Life Tonight, Daniel, Candle in the Wind, Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me, Rocket Man, all got a thrashing. Pinball Wizard (as written by the Who) and Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting (as covered by the Who) were clear standouts, but it’s that glorious first atonal chord to Bennie and the Jets that gets everyone up on their feet. Before closing the night with Your Song (“this is for all of you”) he says he’ll be back one day. And when he does return, if you want to see one of the defining musicians of rock and roll, you should go.

Playing the piano for almost 60 years will make you pretty good at it. I guess that’s why they call him Captain Fantastic.