It’s dark, it’s Saturday night, and we have come to rave. The crowd knows what it wants, and that a full glowsticks danceathon, and when Fatboy Slim appears on stage we know we’re going to get it.

How? He’s dressed as the large lad from the cover of his most famous album, a wig, shades and a fatsuit, and he begins with an Acid smiley and mashing about twenty songs together. The energy is amazing, we are going for it. Luckily for his health, given the heat, he ditches the outfit quickly.

Fatboy goes on to prove why he’s one of the best to ever do it, and that’s not just our opinion because the real Rita Ora appears, does some vocals and tells him precisely that. A few minutes later he gets then crowd on their knees, and that’s not a metaphor, it’s some brilliant showmanship carried out to the vocals on the music.

I mean, can you beat a mass singalong to Eye of the Tiger remixed to high heaven? No, you cannot. Fatboy has some sort of mask on, there’s a guy crowdsurfing on an inflatable dinghy, the music is pounding. We get his hits, we get everyone else’s hit, we get the kitchen sink.

We may never sleep again