in 1988 saying to my Mum that, regardless of her spare ticket for Bruce Springsteen, I wasn't interested in coming along. What an idiot I was. If only she'd said "Look, I'll be dead in eight years and this is our only chance to go and see my favourite living singer - and someone that you will only appreciate after I'm gone - together. Why not come anyway?"

They say you should have no regrets. But it's difficult when you did the wrong thing.

I was thrilled at the news of the gig - went to the web site to apply for tickets....then stopped.....my finger trembled over the mouse button - visions of having to shlep down to the bloody Dome mid week, the long journey home, the crap sound, Planty looking all saggy and not like the Golden God of yore, god knows if Jimmy Page can even play any more (he was always a bit dodgy live even back in the day)....

and I hit cancel. And went to see Jeffrey Foucault at the Ent Shed in Bedford which is a tiny shed (literally) on the side of a pub with a little stage and PA and loved every minute of it.

I have a feeling it will be hugely disappointing. Besides, they'll be on tour next year. Go then.

Here's something: in 1995 a load of us went to see REM at the Milton Keynes bowl. A fortnight later we all saw an REM tribute band in a small club in Colchester. You can guess which was the better night out.

The big gigs are so often a letdown.

Not exactly on the same 'historical' scale, but no less knife edge, I bought a ticket for Crowded House at Sydney Opera House.

It was their last gig and a chance to say goodbye properly to some of the soundtracks of my youth before retreating to my CDs and memories of Paul Hester tripping over his snare during Sister Madly at the Hammy Odeon (it'll NEVER be the bloody Apollo to me, I'm afraid).

The ticket was a pain in the backside to get, and combined with the plane ticket and considerable inconvenience of travelling to the other side of the sodding planet, I had second thoughts almost immediately.

But I went, the gig was brilliant, if somewhat prematurely nostalgic. Yes, I dined out on it for many years. Being of a naive bent, it never occurred to me that Finn would reform the troupe, especially without Hester, put up the big tent and do it all again. In hindsight, I'm not sure it was the right move.

We can all be cynical about the reasons why our heroes renounce retirement; I appreciate the sentiment behind the concert for Ertegun, but come on, are you telling me there's no money on the rider? Who of any of us could resist the lure of doing something they loved just once more, given the chance?

So it's a toss up; do you go and see Percy's voice break in Immigrant Song to say you were there, or do you remember when Zep were the finest thing on 8 legs?

Haven't we expunged this nostalgia thing from our collective conscience yet? We've got Human League and most of their 80's compadres playing Daventree Legion and the Todmorden Nutbowl, and, the biggest joke of all, the Drolling Gnomes are STILL desperate to be taken seriously before each evening's bed bath. What next? Oasis announce anniversary Wonderwall concert? The Roses play Wormwood. Enough!

I didn't buy a ticket for the House this year, though the album's good and I wish them well.

You made the right decision; live music's not a history lesson, it's about heart in mouth, hands in the air, losing yourself to the moment you know won't come again.

P.S. Anyone else think Oasis were just a joke tribute to a local Mancunian three chord bar band that got out of control?

Turned down a ticket to see Jeff Buckley in Bristol early 1995, chose instead to go to the pictures with my then girlfriend. Thought I'd get another chance to see him. Regrets? I've had a few.......

Free tickets to see Nirnana on the Nevermind tour, small venue (about 1500 people), big raves on shows leading up the week or so before... friend I was going with got sick, I couldn't really get the urge to go.

Regrets? Have a guess...

I was at Earl's Court in '75 and Knebworth in '79, and I just had to enter the ballot for the 02. Unsuccessfully as it turned out, and you know what? My overwhelming feeling was one of relief.

For years, whenever the subject of concerts came up in conversation with friends and talk would turn to who they'd seen or not seen, it was always the same 2 bands that I'd express regret for missing when I had the chance - Talking Heads and the Police. And, putting aside their very different styles of music for a moment, I realised that a large part of what attracted me to both of them were the rhythm sections, particularly the drumming and the space and openness of their sound.

Then suddenly, the long believed "missed opportunity" became achievable - the Police had reformed, are touring and the first reviews are very good!
I immediately bought tickets for Munich's Olympiastadion - not the greatest venue, but so what - the sound-system is OK and I certainly wasn't going to let this chance go by.

The September evening was cool but dry and the buzz of expectation was infectious.
Almost too much so.
It quickly became obvious that for many people present it was almost irrelevant whether the band would be good or not, they were seeing the Police.
The band came on, said hello, played all their hits, played an encore and everybody went home happy… almost everybody.

This wasn't the Police, this really was "stadium rock", like listening through the wall to your neighbours stereo - you can hear everything but it's all mixed up together. The space around the instruments, the lightness of touch, the dynamics - in effect the essence of the Police - all lost in the big sound.

Too much to expect from a stadium gig? Maybe, but I've seen enough concerts in stadiums to know that it can be done better.
Listening to the radio on the way home, the presenter enthused about the gig and how just 3 men could sound like so many… and I kept asking myself why 3 men needed to sound like so many?
Even though I am sure the majority enjoyed themselves, I certainly wish I hadn't gone. And if I hear on the radio tomorrow that David Byrne has been seen talking to Tina Weymouth then I'll have to think seriously about going into hibernation with my iPod until the danger has passed.

I think we all need to treat our memories of "missed opportunities" with more circumspection and enjoy them for what they are. While still a dream, they let us return regularly to our music collection and our younger selves and generate a warm feeling of time & place tinged with a dash of regret. But once realised (much like meeting an old girlfriend) the treasured memory is almost certain to collapse under the weight of its own expectation and then it's gone, forever.

You've done the right thing, Hargarino. You wouldn't be going to see Led Zep - you'd be going to see some old blokes trying to recapture what they once had. And failing. You're bang on about the 'occasion' - it won't be a gig, it'll be a freakshow. If they were playing a smaller venue or if it was guaranteed that the audience would have a bit of respect then I'd say go, but this will be necrophilia when it should be necromancy.

Much better to imagine how brilliant it could be than actually having to be present at the awful reality.

I absolutely adored the Police in my younger days and so wanted to see them live, but never got the chance.

And now I am old enough to know where to get the tickets and have the money to afford them (just about) and I decided not to.

I wanted to see them then, not now when they've barely spoken for years, Sting has disappeared up his own ego and I would probably be miles away from the stage...

And they'd probably only play hits and no fun extras or slightly obscure album tracks.

And I'd be surrounded by people talking or waving bloody mobile phones.