May, 1973, Bournemouth Winter Gardens, none of my mates wanted to go so I was there, on my own, in near pitch darkness, waiting with increasing excitement. Two purple (as I recall) lights cut through the darkness, projecting lightning flashes on the back wall and the synthesised Beethoven's Ninth, the so-claled Clockwork Orange March blared out and the festivities began.
By no means the best gig I ever went to but certainly one of the best shows I have ever seen - there was a definite feel this is the show, you are all the audience and ne'er the twain shall meet.
Oddly, of all the songs the one that sticks in my mind the most was All The Young Dudes, which knocked the Mott the Hoople cover into a proverbial cocked hat.