Not all attendees, who had shelled out over £100 per ticket, seemed to enjoy the performance. Around halfway through the sold-out two-hour show, a noticeable number of fans began to vacate their seats. Initially, I assumed it was for a brief comfort break, but most didn't return, leaving noticeable gaps in the stalls.
'I don't think I can stand any more of this,' one man quietly confessed as he navigated past me to make a swift exit. His wife appeared even more disheartened. Oh dear.
But at the age of 70, and with a stellar 50-year career behind him, Elvis Costello doesn't have anything left to prove. And if, at times, this show was 'self-indulgent' and 'unlistenable' - as one fan described it to me afterwards - it was also sprinkled with some glittering jewels. Yes, it was hard work at times, but it was worth it, Appearing on stage with long-time keyboardist Steve Nieve (one of the original Attractions) and a young chap in a baseball cap behind a laptop at the side of the stage, this was a stripped-back, low-lit affair.
Anybody expecting a full-blown band show with polished versions of back-to-back hits may have felt short-changed but, like fellow musical elder statesmen Bob Dylan and Van Morrison, Costello has never played by the rules and he likes to do things differently. With his pork-pie hat, trademark glasses and gap-toothed grin, punk rock's sneering Mr Angry stayed seated for much of the show. When he did stand up, he walked over to the vintage radio microphones rem.