It had been a strange couple of days - a mess of coincidences. Carnival night in Burnham yesterday and I spotted someone on the train with whom I had a clumsy but solemn teenage obsession. There were curious glances of the identity-confirming variety, but nothing more. It's long years since I thought of it, but now I appreciate how foolish and painful I felt back then. Then, this morning I spotted an old teacher of mine, someone I'd disagreed with - indeed held partly responsible for my early educational bath and it's attendant setbacks. After a brief and uncertain sighting in the street, he appeared again short feet away from me at the station. I couldn't bear to acknowledge him. I was struck by the odd synchronicity that I'd only been speaking about him on Sunday to my parents. It must have been years since I'd uttered his name until then.

More memories. I remember attending gigs in Bristol when I was much younger - standing, self-consciously waiting for the doors to open, cautiously eyeing some pale and beautiful indie-girl but knowing that she was waiting for her boyfriend to show up. Then, studiously watching the support act with the eyes of a music critic in the hope of discovering some hidden treasure - even sometimes going mainly for the support act and getting into a big fight over preferring Velvet Crush to Teenage Fanclub as I recall! So tonight I found myself doing almost the same thing. Standing almost exactly in the spot where I waited for the Sarah 100 Farewell Party over a decade ago, I waited rather nervously to watch Arab Strap's final performance in Bristol.

The Thekla Social hasn't changed much from its guise as just plain 'Thekla'. A boat, moored alongside The Grove in a part of Bristol which is now disturbingly hip where it was once just disturbing. Inside it's been tidied up, and seems smaller - but then again I'm bigger I suppose. The venue was slow to fill, and there were only a handful of us close to the stage for support act De Rosa. They were an interesting mixture of noisy pop and the studied alt-country rock which seems to have been perfected in Glasgow these days. Some interesting songs, some which were a little longer than necessary. They seemed to finish on a high, and got a fairly positive response from the never very forgiving Bristolian crowd.

Time to study the audience. Surprisingly young. Predominantly male. Lots of girlfriends dragged along for the night out. I wonder what they thought? A strange group, plainly regulars here, seemed to be holding court near the front of the stage. Took a fair bit of stick from 'the kids' about my 'silly looking parka' which was momentarily silenced by most of Arab Strap walking through the venue in similar garments, although one wag pointed out that 'they were fat old blokes too'. Refreshed my bottle of beer and found a spot near a rather unkempt young man who unfortunately (for all of us) seemed to smell like cat litter.

It's a long time since I'd seen Arab Strap, but I remember then thinking that even though they were sort of ramshackle on record, they were different live - Malcolm's guitar in particular coming to life. Tonight I was struck by the same feeling from the second the bagpipes heralded their arrival on stage. Aidan, the consummate showman entertained despite his heavy cold. I always found it remarkable that someone with a legendary appetite for alcohol had such a keen memory for lyrics, and tonight some very old songs surfaced, including a sublime New Birds, a sleazy take on Packs of Three and The First Big Weekend - requiring considerable feats of memory I'm sure to recall the dense and intricate storytelling. New material sat comfortably alongside the old with a spirited Speed-Date, a stirring Dream Sequence and an inspirational There Is No Ending from the final record. Stepped out into the cold and foggy evening, thinking about Bristol, music, absent friends and recent coincidences. The kind of reverie where Arab Strap just seem to make sense.

At a time when all kinds of bands from my past are reforming and crawling back into the limelight, a chapter closes.

There have been a few times that I've almost not seen The Wedding Present in Bristol. The one that most immediately springs to mind is the overheating Volkswagen Golf expiring in The Centre on the way to The Fleece. Tonight, once again, it was almost not to be. Arrived early - the ticket said 7:00pm, and the doors opened on time, but regulars here obviously knew that this was wildly optimistic and almost no-one else turned up until a little before 8:00pm. Beer selection impossible - not even a keg bitter in sight. Figured that in a Carling sponsored venue, their offering would at least be cheap. Not so. At over three quid a pint, this is the most expensive beer I've ever been practically forced to buy! Around my second sip I remembered why I drink real ale and not this odd artificial concoction. Consoled myself that the music would start soon...

And then the lights went out...

Builders working nearby had severed a power cable, leaving us with only emergency lighting. The promoter kept us updated but it was clearly out of his hands. We just had to wait. If the power came back on by nine thirty, The Wedding Present would play. If not, it was a refund or a rescheduled date. The power was off for around 40 minutes by my reckoning, but it seemed to drag on forever. Calculated train times for an early departure. Soon they began to remove the support band's equipment from the stage - shame, I'd been looking forward to seeing Scarling. A little after 9:15pm the venue hummed back into life, and the lights came up. The stage was suddenly busy with people setting up for The Wedding Present, and bang on time David and Terry walked on stage to sing Shivers over the curious wurlitzer backing track.

And so the evening began in earnest. This is perhaps the most energetic I've seen David in ages. Every time the band is reinvented around him he seems to draw energy from the young incomers in an almost vampiric manner! When I last saw them, back in February 2005 the band soared majestically through new material and old songs alike. This time, it was noisy and tight - the sound, and a fair few of the song choices, coming straight from the Albini era of 1990-1991. From my perspective, they hadn't sounded better since the last time I saw them in this very venue - which I think was in 1992, when it was known as the Bristol Studio with its strange chicken-in-a-basket catering and alarmingly vibrating upper balcony!

The hits kept coming - a thunderous Dalliance, triumphant returns for old favourites Everyone Thinks He Looks Daft and You Should Always Keep In Touch With Your Friends, and a searing and chaotic Courduroy. Throughout, David was relaxed and talkative - taking mock offence at a fan's failure to remember his football team of choice with an exasperated "I know this man's face better than my Dad's but he forgets I support Man Utd!". Perhaps the most incredible trio of songs was saved for the end - an acerbic take on Brassneck, straight into a full-length version of Take Me (which was cruelly cut short here in 1992!) and then a majestic Octopussy - the strange track which closed 'Seamonsters' signalling with a storm of noise the end of that particular era of The Wedding Present.

I read that this might be the last tour for the reinvented Wedding Present for a while. If they're back, I'll be back. After all, there haven't been any other stormy love affairs which have lasted half my life!

Just like all the best shows, I started out thinking I couldn't be bothered and ended up being blown away. On leaving work tonight, the slog up to Bristol in freezing weather and the inevitable long cold wait for 1C59 on the way home was not inviting. It was very tempting just to stay in the pub at Weston station. But of course I wouldn't have. The last two experiences of seeing Belle and Sebastian in concert have been truly amazing, and I wouldn't miss this - practically a home town show for me at last - for the world!

So, arrived a little late to avoid a wait outside the Colston Hall and found a seat just behind the stalls to relax and enjoy support act Brakes featuring ex-British Sea Power members. Really enjoyed their abrupt punky sound, punctuated by little bursts of pop and country. On occasions they reminded me of Wire with Black Francis on lead vocals, but that could only be a good thing! A nice long set too - early starts and respectable finish times at the Colston Hall always seem to persuade bands to pack lots into their sets, and they finished with an exemplary Comma, Comma, Comma, Full Stop.

Following the strangely anachronistic Colston Hall tradition of ice cream selling girls parading their wares in the interval, the lights went down for the main event. Found myself feeling strangely excitied, despite my reservations earlier. Every time I see Belle & Sebastian I manage to rekindle a little of the feeling of childish expectation and mystery that accompanied the trip to Shepherds Bush almost ten years ago. Need not have worried - the band were on fine form. Lots of new stuff, including Suki in the Graveyard which I've grown to love over the past couple of months, alongside the should-be-hit Funny Little Frog and the could-be-hit White Collar Boy.

Lots of older things thrown in too, including Electronic Renaissance which they stopped short of playing at Somerset House two summers back. The set ended with a stunning Judy and the Dream of Horses. For an encore we got a celebratory If You Find Yourself Caught In Love which turned the ususally reserved Bristol audience into something resembling an evangelical TV preacher's flock! Once again, the band were spot on - strings, brass and all manner of strange instruments swapped around quickly. Stevie Jackson, once again the most relaxed man on stage by a mile, slipping effortlessly from the pristine jangle of the older hits into the seventies-style riffing of the new material. Mention must also be made of a swirling and mesmerising Lonliness of the Middle Distance Runner - first 'officially' heard at the Shepherds Bush show, and still spine-tinglingly fresh today thanks to Beans' hammond playing!

Things always finish at a 'respectable' hour at the Colston Hall, so I hammered across town in an effort to catch to 22:55 home. Missed it by seconds, and predictably waited for a long time for a late 1C59. I didn't mind too much in the circumstances.

Got back to a pile of email this afternoon - a week is a long time on the Ubuntu mailing lists it seems, and I'm too lazy to switch off delivery while I'm away. But buried within all the messages was this press release from the Delgados:

The Delgados, influential figures in Glasgow's independent music scene for over 10 years, have announced that they are to amicably disband. The reason has been put down to the departure of their bass player Stewart Henderson who informed the band in the New Year that he did not wish to make another album. The Delgados have always been known as uniquely collaborative songwriters and as such, it was decided that the band could not continue without all of its original members.

Sad news - glad I got to see them perform on the last tour, despite it being a turbulent and strange night for me. I'll miss the Delgados, but I can't wait to see what Emma and Alun come up with next.