Coming out of the Albert Hall the other night, I felt a mixed bunch of things: a certain elation, but also relief and weariness. As much as I've enjoyed pretty much all the concerts I've been to over the summer, there's a slight but inescapable gladness that it's over now, rather like the feeling you might get after a delicious meal where all the portions have been slightly too big. While the Proms are undoubtedly a Good Thing, you can have too much of a Good Thing, and I wonder how those people who turn up night after night for the best part of three months do it. Perhaps this is why the audience seems to disappear rather than decamp to the Barbican, Festival Hall etc; they're simply sated, and need nine months to let their ears refresh before the next marathon. I wonder if it's entirely healthy to binge on music like this. So I'll raise a glass to another year done, and briefly wonder what the regime change will bring next year. I'm not sure what I'll be doing tomorrow night, but I know where I won't be.