I put my hoodie and coat into my backpack and it into the cloakroom, and used an old trick from my (only ever occasional) raving days: buy the band's T-shirt on the way in, hang it from your waistband, and you'll have something dry to change into at the end. Anyway, the rest of the audience are very much for the standing and occasionally nodding - there was a bit of rocking backwards and forwards, but I think I was probably the only one moving hands and feet simultaneously.
Eventually, after 45 minutes, the band leave the stage. There's a quarter of an hour left until what'd marked on the timetable as "curfew", and the audience seem uncertain as to whether that's when the venue has to be cleared by, or when the band should be on until. After a few minutes of calling out for more, the lights go up, a Portishead track comes on, and the audience start to leave through the door at the back. I take this opportunity to switch T-shirts, and I'm halfway through when the band wander back on stage, and start making gestures to turn the lights down and the track off. There's a general rush back towards the stage, where I am still mid-manoeuvre. Looking back, I think that if I managed to accidentally persuade a dozen people that there had been some dude dancing shirtless in the ICA, it was a good night.