But spot a familiar landmark, or, in this case, a name that had lodged in the memory bank, and everything’s relatively cool. We booked in, settled into the room, and Madam’s What time does the concert start? produced a check of tickets and a much earlier departure than I’d anticipated.
If the question hadn’t been asked we might have rocked up at least half an hour after the actual commencement. A lunchtime question about starting time had been answered with a seven-thirty, omitting an I think and failing to note the expression of surprise from someone who's rather more au fait with the way things run over here than her sister, who has spent the last twenty-odd years in Australia.
Most of the conversation was, predictably, in Japanese, so I didn't pick up the that's early for a Sunday (or words to that effect). We’d also learned that the ¥500 drink charge is, in effect, standard operating practice in these parts.
In any case, Madam checked at around four-thirty, we were out the door shortly thereafter and around an hour later we were seated in row G, enjoying the different ambience at a different venue. Once we were inside it was obvious that Zepp Namba is a far more relaxed environment than the Ex in Roppongi.
The entrance was entirely devoid of people yelling instructions through bullhorns, and there were no PA announcements reminding us that photographs were forbidden.
I joined a stream of punters getting photos taken in front of the iconic item and was on my way back to the seats when I noted a familiar-looking bearded gentleman thanking someone who'd taken a happy snap. "Strange," I thought. "Looks like Steve Nieve. Must be his brother."
As the figure who bore a remarkable resemblance to Costello’s longtime keyboard playing associate headed off I remarked on the resemblance, and Madam pointed out that he'd been stopped by a couple of Japanese girls and was signing autographs. Obviously, Steve…
And, a couple of hours, after yet another highly enjoyable concert we headed not quite straight back to the hotel.
There were other matters that needed attention, namely a search for beer, public phones and gyoza.
And so, eventually, with the set list typed and the concert review commenced, to bed.