The Brits: We sat through the ceremony so you didn't have to

7pm We queue at B entrance.

7.20pm We get sent to H entrance

7.30pm We get sent from H back to B.

7.35pm We've fucking missed Little Mix.

7.40pm We get sent from B to E. This is getting long now.

7.45pm Oh, don't tell us we've fucking missed Bruno Mars now. Damn.

7.50pm. We sit down. We get in. 1975 have just won something and we're finally settled. About fucking time.

7.52pm Who are The 1975 again?

7.55pm Best British Male Solo Artist goes to David Bowie. No complaints here. It seems fitting that one of the greatest Brits that's ever lived wins big at the Brits.

8pm Emeli Sandé has performed. Pretty good to be honest. Visuals are mad and we're sipping on a Stella so no complaints yet. Other than the fact we've missed Little Mix and Mars. Fuming.

8.05pm Dermot O'Leary is the crispiest man in the room. He's pretty cool, if not a tad dry.

8.10pm Here we go. Stormzy and Skepta up for Best Breakthrough Award. Are we going to see the grime stars win big? Nah.

8.13pm Rag & Bone Man wins. Really? Fair play, but we were on a Skepta win. Even though he's not really a breakthrough artist, is he?

8.20pm Oh, here are The 1975. Do we really have to do this?

8.23pm Average.

8.30pm It's time for a George Michael tribute and we're really on this. An emotional, heartfelt speech from his Wham! bandmate Andrew Ridgeley and dancers. It's a fitting eulogy for an amazing man.

8.40pm Chris Martin starts singing some George Michael ballads. There are a couple of duff notes to start with and you can tell he's missing his piano. Michael's vocals in the background are sentimental and moving, though. The man truly was a great and it's hard not to get a little choked up.

8.51pm Best British Single next. No one we really follow. Coldplay are nominated, but after that performance by frontman Martin, it shouldn't be them. Oh wait. Calvin Harris is nominated...

8.53pm IT'S LITTLE MIX. AHHHHH. CROWD GOES WILD. LITTLE MIX. YEAHHHHHHHHHH. "Cheers to our exes. This one's for you, lads." Go on, girls!

8.55pm Katy Perry has come on stage. It's full of little houses that move around. It's an impressive setup for an impressive pop star. She's working it more than anyone else has so far. But it is weird, very fucking weird.

8.58pm Ok so none of this makes sense. The houses are walking around, there are giant skeletons wandering around on stage with fireworks coming out of their hands and Katy Perry is sprinting around. It's all pretty mad. Another Stella in, though. (It turns out the oversized skeletons were supposed to be Donald Trump and Theresa May. Could have fooled us, but we respect the fact you've tried to do something a little bit controversial this year, Katy).

9.01pm Dermot introduces Jonathan Ross and Naomi Campbell to present the Global Success award to Adele. "One's a model, one's a supermodel." No one really gets the joke. Tough crowd. Adele's not going to perform, is she? Oh my god! Is she? No. To be fair, for one of the richest musicians in the world, she's still so bloody humble. "I feel like I'm gonna be sent back to Tottenham," she says in her acceptance speech. She's not. For now, she's "somewhere pretty dry, hence the fake bush behind me" Joker.

9.07pm Skepta is on and it's the highlight so far. No fancy stage setup. No props. Just Skeppy in the middle of the arena with a deep red background, flames blowing up and a huge rendition of 'Shutdown'. An anti-establishment track at the UK music industry's glitziest showcase. He doesn't give a fuck.