Happy Golden Jubilee indeed. Three indisputable truths emerged from one of the most laborious, ludicrous evening’s “entertainment” I’ve ever had the displeasure of sitting through. 1: If you look the up the word ‘smug’ in your dictionary, you’ll find a foolish looking picture of Paul McCartney. 2: Ricky Martin couldn’t hold a tune if it came with a guidebook and full set of instructions. 3: Brian Wilson is still haunted by whatever demons have gripped him since Pet Sounds. His performance of “Warmth Of The Sun” had me in tears, but he looks terrified, as if convinced that life will leap out with a loud bang and swallow him whole at any moment. I really hope he’s happy. Next Sunday I’ll see him play live, and have the distinct feeling that it’ll be a somewhat emotional night.