IT might make tough reading for some, but it takes a lot to look sharp at 47. A life of excess tends to accelerate the demise of a man even further.

In 1999, aged 15, I witnessed the sad sight of the stocking-clad Kevin Rowland, of Dexys Midnight Runners, mumbling through his make-up to a baffled crowd at Leeds Festival. This harrowing image made me realise from an early age the importance of growing old with dignity.

I’m now inching closer towards the age of Rowland – still no closer to wearing stockings and make-up – and it therefore fills me with great hope to see a man like Ian Brown, still looking as good now as he did in 1989, when he wore that baggy white dollar bill T-shirt, striding through the desert on the Fools Gold video.

His voice is perhaps not as light as it once was and Brown was hollering down the mic, his flat nasal tone not so much drifting across the audience as assaulting each and every member of it.

But by some minor miracle it works.

Perhaps it is Brown’s constant referencing of the intergalactic world, somehow channeling the mystical powers of the universe.

Songs like F.E.A.R. and Stellify would be destroyed if performed by a capable singer (hands off Cardle). Golden Gaze, My Star and Longsight M13 all further showcase the effective blending of rock, hiphop and bangra styles of Brown and his band.

So he sounds good, and looks younger than his 47 years, but Brown’s true age is perhaps revealed in his curmudgeonly parting gambit to the adoring crowd.

“I hate Yorkshire,” he says with a glint in his eye before swaggering off stage and out of sight.