There might not have been a blood red sky but we were happy to be just counting stars.
Here at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre, ten miles west of Denver, 6,500ft in the Rockies Mountains where Bono affirmed back in 1983 that ‘this was not a rebel song, this was Sunday Bloody Sunday.’
Age has lined the U2 singer behind those ubiquitous shades in the 35 years since, though here on the big screen he is caught in time, all mullet and cut-off T-shirt, black jeans and boots, but minus the shades.
But, of course, it is but an illusion, the only thing truly caught in time is the three-sided natural rock Amphitheatre that has drawn all the greats to ;ay here from The Beatles to Springsteen to Coldplay and tonight’s guests, Colorado’s own OneRepublic, all drawn by the theatre of it all, its place in rock history and the natural acoustics.
Red Rocks, whose distinctive colour comes from oxidisation or rust has been around for 2million years though the amphitheatre is but a baby, only built in 1906 by a John Brisben Walker who saw the potential of placing a stage between the rocks where it juts in from the right.
I visit earlier in the day and see Coloradans practising yoga on the seats and folkies Elephant Revival do a soundcheck.
But tonight, I am one of 6,000 bopping away to Counting Stars, Stop and Stare, Apologise and lighting the torch on my phone to Ryan Tedder’s Halo, which he wrote for Beyonce.
The air is still. Listen carefully and the rocks seem to talk to you, of musical legends of yesteryear. And when all is done, the stars are there to guide you home.