This is one of a couple of justifications for a very last minute trip to Paris, not a week back from a holiday to Mallorca. This is a ridiculous and unsustainable lifestyle. Nevertheless. Let’s be honest, he’s 87, I’m not exactly going to take my chances on him touring again in another seven years or however long it’s been since the last one. Allen has assembled a stellar backing band, who - to be honest - do at times outshine him. He’s clearly a passionate clarinet player who is at times gifted and at others a bit croaky. It’s a set of standards, none of which I particularly know, but do enjoy. It is something to simply be able to see him live in the flesh in some form, and when he addresses the audience, it’s simply comforting to hear his voice. I spend a while in the cold afterwards outside by stage door as the gig is torn down hoping that might pan out, but alas no. I comfort myself with a McDonalds croque monsiuer (what a country) and head back to my hotel. It was a worthwhile trip all the same, and to be able to have been there was, yes. Good.