We're in the last days of a sleaze-ridden Tory government, university education is free and only total geeks use email. Yes, it's 1996 again; how else do you explain the fact that Dodgy are performing in front of such an adoring crowd?
The chirpy trio are back, and it's as if the past twelve years never happened. The tent is surrounded by the hordes of fans who arrived too late to squeeze in. The audience are clapping and cheering, and - please tell me I'm imagining things - there is at least one lighter being waved in a non-ironic manner. (Of course, I forgot that we've all been transported back to a world where the smoking ban is just a crazy dream.)
The set is shambolic, but the band's enthusiasm is infectious. They're obviously delighted to be touring and writing music again. The new material is slower than their early stuff, but the audience seem to enjoy it anyway.
They end with Good Enough, which is all over the place musically as well as missing the lift that some live brass would provide. But the rapturous audience cheer all the way through, except when singer Nigel holds the mic towards them and they oblige by singing the chorus.
As we shuffle out, I get a hint as to why Dodgy are still so popular. The girl in front of me says to her friend, "They remind me of when I was, like, fifteen."