It was snowing in Manchester. A lot. Roads had been closed overnight, and we (and the band) were driving across to Gateshead.
We stopped at Scotch Corner, and I picked up a copy of the Yes special magazine with Steve and the band on the front. As I leafed through, I looked up, and there was Steve himself waving at me cheerily, wearing a big furry hat with earflaps like Deputy Dawg. As we always meet the band at service stations, this didn't really surprise me.
So. The Sage, crouched by the Tyne, all curvy wood and glass and metal. Here's Steve, still wearing the same outfit, socks etc. But no Deputy Dawg hat.
Mr Sherwood, looking right at me.
So here we are in the encore. Thankfully, a more enthusiastic audience are up on their feet.
I've been taking a stack of photos, as I've got used to the rhythm of the performance, and now know roughly when the best shots and most favourable lighting are going to come up. Plus I'm in the front row opposite Steve. I am busy clicking away with my little camera, whilst the guy next to me has a big sketchbook and loads of coloured pencils and is scribbling away.drawing the band. The faster I take photos, the more he frantically sketches. It's like technology 200 years apart.
Steve starts to get frisky, and does his curious little stiff-legged staccato dance.
And then it's over.
A long drive back through the snowy night to Glasgow, and work in the morning.