Craig David and Lingfield: a little piece of heaven or hell?

Live music isn't what it used to be, that's for sure. I don't quite remember a time when a festival consisted of a bunch of smelly, naked people humping in mud while people set light to guitars, but I do remember the days when a night at a concert was a cross between the Royal Marines' commando training programme and an episode of The Young Ones.

Nowadays festivals are sponsored by investment banks, members of the audience wear precautionary earplugs and there's air-conditioning to stop people from keeling over and being trampled underfoot. Now where's the fun in that?

For many of these reasons, I think I come at the Lingfield Park/Craig David concert/third circle of hell debate from a different direction to many people, because a lot of what I've heard came to pass on that infamous night in racecourse history sounds very much like a routine evening at the Sweaty Pits club circa 1979.