If you thought I was done with the Isle of Wight Festival ramblings, you were wrong. So very wrong.

On Sunday night, after a very apt warm-up from their nervous fans The Kooks, The Police took to the stage for their second to last performance in the UK ever (or at least until Bob Geldof or someone pulls them out of retirement to do a charity gig).

They were, of course, bloody brilliant. As I said before, I was raised on a diet of alphabites, spaghetti hoops and Sting, so seeing them live was a real experience for me. What really surprised me was the amount of people the same age as me or younger who also knew all the words to everything. Not just Message In A Bottle and Roxanne, but the more obscure stuff too. There are obviously lots of dads out there starting their kids young.

There was a moment of Sting-ishness, when the big screens during Invisible Sun showed pictures of deprived children in the third world instead of Andy Summers playing guitar, but I think when you’re as amazing as the Police you can afford to do whatever the hell you want. If John Lydon can call people ‘homos’, you can’t stop Sting from pimping out a good cause.

The highlights? The whole audience singing along to the encore performance of ‘Every Breath You Take’, and all the couples getting all loved-up to a song that’s technically about a stalker. Don’t Stand So Close To Me, because it rocks. Everyone shouting ‘Eeee-yoooooo’ to the refrain of ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic’, and a surprise performance of ‘King of Pain’, another favourite of mine.

No Synchronicity II though, but a girl can’t have everything.