Diane Davies: When it comes to being a rock chick, age doesn't matter

As a sassy teen rocker I can remember looking at ‘old’ people at gigs – probably aged about 35 to my young eyes – and wondering why they were there. Why would they still be turning out for concerts? Wasn’t Emmerdale on?

Today I am more than a little over the age of 35 and still go to as many gigs as ever – in fact I am better placed to afford the costly tickets now. Admittedly my back and calf muscles ache the following day.

And though my jeans are still too tight it is in very different places and more to do with a hearty supper rather than some DIY tapering on my mum’s sewing machine. I tend to take a coat these days too – heat sensitivity develops with age I’m sure.

The standing/dancing area remains my ticket of choice and, being vertically challenged, I need to get close enough to see. Though when going to watch the ‘classic’ bands still going from my youth I find they are often all-seaters now.

I can still be found at the odd music festival – but NEVER in the camping area. Camping at music festivals is something that can only be enjoyed by the young or insomniacs. Give me a nice warm hotel bed and an en-suite bathroom every time.

Sadly, there seems something a little undignified to see women of a certain age still staking a claim to their place in the music scene. Isn’t it time Madonna covered up a little? And I don’t doubt that the excitable young things bounding around at Kasabian do view me and my bestie as a pair of Edina and Patsy clones. Absolutely fabulous darling!

In truth I always thought I would ‘grow out of’ loud and live music at some point and develop a love of easy listening and maybe even classical. It never happened – thankfully. Music still lifts my mood, evokes uncharacteristic energy and movement from me and brings a smile to my face. There is no feeling like leaving a cracking gig – hot, sweaty and aching but with a great memory.

So I have no intention of giving up going to concerts – I am an ageing rocker and proud of it. I once saw a ‘motivational’ plaque in a shop with the message ‘Life is a piece of music, and you are supposed to be dancing’.

Well I am still dancing – just not in the the mosh pit anymore.