Pharrell Williams’ looks shocked. His welcoming committee is not only populated Louis Hamilton, Bradley Cooper, Chris Martin, and a cast of recognisable faces, but by over one hundred thousand strong, screaming.
‘He should be headlining’, I overhear those around me in the jam-packed Pyramid Arena who are clearly impressed. And why not? If you didn’t know ‘Rockstar’, you’ve never been to a bar or bowling alley, those who haven’t heard ‘Blurred Lines’ are either Marvin Gaye’s family or thick-skinned feminists, and if you didn’t recognise ‘Happy’, you may well be deaf.
The hit parade marches through and Pharrell is sprinting ahead with an air of euphoria and enthusiasm about him. He is undeniably charming throughout, surmised quite wonderfully by him bringing out “the future of England” – a platoon of lucky children and teens – to help him to dance and croon his way through his mega-hit, ‘Happy’.
The room doesn’t have a roof, so we all clapped along anyway.