The streets were bustling; the sun was shining; and the off-key tones of a Billy Joel tribute act were serenading me as I strolled through Cardiff towards the Principality Stadium, eager to attend his inspiration’s only European gig of the year. As the soundtrack of my childhood and adolescence, I was intrigued to see the man who’d been performing since before I was born — had he still got it? Was he a bit past it? The short answer: no.

He opened his set with a literal dad joke (“Sorry, Billy couldn’t be here tonight, but I’m his dad, and I know all his stuff”), which went down very well with my own father, before going straight into ‘Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)’. This was followed by the lesser-known, yet equally brilliant, ‘Pressure’.

“Had Joel still got it? Was he a bit past it? The short answer: no”

Wasting no breath, he launched into ‘The Entertainer’, a brilliantly sardonic satire of the music industry through the eyes of a roguish, Casanova-esque narrator. His dedication of it to Donald Trump before the 2016 election managed to squeeze out a rare political comment from him. It was mistakenly taken by some as an endorsement of Trump, and he later clarified his support for Clinton in a letter to the New York Post. A private figure, despite his four marriages (four?!), Joel has shied away from making blanket political statements, à la Lana Del Rey’s infamous Instagram post, yet has frequently expressed opinions through his music.

A change in mood was heralded by ‘Just the Way You Are’ and the upbeat ‘Zanzibar’, which featured a spectacular trumpet solo from Carl Fischer. Joel’s supporting band are phenomenal in their own right, elevating each song and adding a layer of electricity to the atmosphere. But it was the man himself who controlled the stage, a true showman in every sense of the word. For ‘An Innocent Man’, one of his major hits, he wryly joked he would need help hitting the high note — yet he made it, holding the audience in his thrall as he did.

A more sombre tone was ushered in with his introduction of ‘Allentown’ and ’The Downeaster ‘Alexa’’. Through a superb meshing of chords and melody with lyrics, both songs impart images of bleak economic despair, in Steel Belt cities and among Long Island fishermen respectively. With more emotion than before, and a slight — perhaps imagined — choke in his throat, he simply described the songs as his “wanting to do something for these people”. ‘Allentown’ became an anthem for disengaged blue-collar Americans, and Joel donated the profits of ’The Downeaster ‘Alexa’’ to the fishermen of Oyster Bay.

“Far from marring his performance, these tokens of ageing only served as a reminder of his longevity and his stardom”

His trance-like grip over the crowd continued as he moved into one he described as being “loved by the younger generation”. Alone at the piano, ‘Vienna’ was hauntingly beautiful and serenely enchanting at the same time. Yet this reverie was snapped by the jaunty chords of ‘My Life’, featuring special guest vocalist 8-year-old Della Rose. Assuming at first she was his granddaughter (how sweet!), we later discovered she was actually his daughter (four marriages, remember!), which was … interesting! He finished off the final third of his set with ‘New York State of Mind’, clearly awaited with a great degree of anticipation by the crowd, which was followed by the ever-cheeky ‘Only the Good Die Young’, and a spectacular cover of ‘Nessun Dorma’ by Mike DelGuidice — another of Joel’s talented ensemble. He rounded off with the seven-minute extravaganza ‘Scenes from an Italian Restaurant’ to ferocious applause, before playing the first few notes of ‘Piano Man’. All previous crowd interaction paled in comparison, and he chuckled before leading the crowd in a beautiful rendition of his biggest song (which was never meant to be the hit, as is always the way).

After an emotional few minutes, he launched into a five-song encore of hit after hit: ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’, ‘Uptown Girl’, ‘It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me’, ‘Big Shot’, and ‘You May Be Right’. Hearing such enormous songs live, only metres away from a living legend (he turned 75 this year) with a devoted crowd felt slightly surreal. By bringing the average age down significantly, I had avoided the need to queue for hours to secure a spot near the front; as a result, I was close enough to pick up on the growing stiffness of his movements, his occasional tactical rests on his piano stool. But far from marring his performance, these tokens of ageing only served as a reminder of his longevity and his stardom.

Despite the five-hour traffic jam it had taken to reach him, it was an incredible evening spent watching a true performer and once-in-a-generation talent. Five stars, Hollywood Walk of Fame or otherwise.