I brought my nine year old to see Harry Styles at the Southbank centre. He wants to be an instrument maker. He likes to make instruments out of whatever he can find. Straws. Plastic bottles. Bamboo from the garden. In the queue, he shakes his packet of Tik Taks. Listen mum when I shake it this way the sound is higher than when I turn it around and shake it that way. Inside, we marvel at the beauty of the room, with its cantilevering balconies, as if they’re floating. Then the orchestra come out with their big blousy bows around their necks and he is so excited at all the different percussionists! we agree that out of all the players, it’s the percussionists who seem like they’re having the most fun. Harry comes on. It’s so beautiful! The sound! He says. And it really is. The orchestra, waves of warm sound, lapping around Harrys voice. Mum can I do chores and save up for a 3d printer. He asks me during one song. so I can print my own instruments? He is learning drums and watches the drummer, tucked away in the back, closely. He is thrilled when the drummer goes double time in the second half of one song, and drums along with his hands on his legs. At the end Harry sings Bridge Over Troubled Water.  And it’s beautiful. His voice, clear baritone, like it’s been made to sing that song. I realise I am leaning forward towards the stage, waiting for the culmination of the song, wondering how will he handle the high notes? and when he gets there, he really does it. He manages to not just reach the note but to push through it with power and everything converges into a huge magnificent sound, the strings, the choir the drums…Like a bridge over troubled water. I will ease your mind. My son suddenly rests his head on my shoulder and sucks his thumb. Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind. Sitting in the darkness, the words washing over us, I wish that time could stop, so that I could preserve this moment, leaning into each other in the darkness, engulfed in music, overcome.