Marianne Faithfull

We have just had a few days holiday in Malaga. We arrived to find that Marianne Faithful, no less, was doing a concert in the main theatre on the Saturday night. And we are old enough to remember Marianne as THE rock chick of all rock chicks, the glamorous, elfin drifter through the sixties with the lifestyle that we all envied.

We couldn't believe that there would be seats still available, but there were. Seats at all prices. We bought the cheapest, of course. And arrived to find the place more than half-empty and were offered the chance to sit in one of the boxes, instead of right up in the gods. (I've never actually sat in a box before!)

That was the first sad thing, that she couldn't fill even a small theatre in a big Spanish town full of tourists and expats. There were only 400 in. They kept the house lights down so she couldn't see how few of us there were.

It is unfair to complain that she is old now. Of course she is. If she was young in the sixties - well, work it out for yourself. It is forty years on, and more. And it made me feel old too, just looking at her and realising that there in front of us was the undeniable reminder that we are all old now. Was she sober? I'm not sure. She was very wobbly and wavering and confused. It would be more charitable to think that perhaps she had been ill. But she had all her songs on a stand beside her, had to keep looking at them to remind herself what came next.

She wasn't well served by the technical staff. The sound was unbalanced, her accompanying guitarist very loud, her own voice often drowned.

It was almost the saddest thing I have ever seen in a theatre.