VENUE THE FIDDLER’S ELBOW, LONDON
It’s a both bitterly cold and rain-sodden, not to mention heartsinkingly grey, December Sunday – the kind tailor-made for spending the day lazing on the sofa, central heating on and watching movies. But there’s a very healthy queue of expectant prog fans doing their best to shelter from the unstinting drizzle, stretching down the road from the Fiddler’s Elbow doorway. It’s this is sure there was a bit more consternation behind the scenes than seems apparent on the face of things.
