Nadia Shireen dances for her dinner.

The notice on the dressing room door reads simply, “Animals”. Twenty of us shuffle into the shoebox nestled within Hammersmith Apollo. Animal carcasses (well, costumes) are strewn about the room - the tiger and monkey have been taken so I grab a brown bear with big teeth and comedy eyes. Animal wrangler Corey thanks us for taking part and, as people motion towards the “cursed” panda suit that a 16-year-old girl collapsed in a few days earlier, we sign a disclaimer form in case of injury. I get dressed. For some reason, my bear suit is damp.

In a scene echoing both Fight Club and Jumanji, Corey gives us the rules: stay in the marked-off area, don't hassle the band, don't throw water over the electrics and dance like crazy. Before I know it we're being ushered on stage by an exasperated Santa (Corey) and launched straight into Race For The Prize. I bounce as best I can, glimpsing euphoric grins, bobbing heads, monkey masks, hand puppets, balloons and confetti through my bear mouth. Music and voices echo as if I'm underwater, and I’m instantly drenched in sweat. My head keeps wobbling off so I eventually develop a shuffling, one-pawed dancing technique as the other steadies my bear-neck.

By the time the second song kicks in, I realise I am neither human nor bear. I am now a Beast Of The Flaming Lip - and it becomes amazingly liberating. I mimic stances from The Karate Kid with a yellow chick during Yoshimi... and strike ferocious poses as strobe lights flash. I swipe comically at the grizzly (who doesn't seem to appreciate the gag). I writhe, groove, rock, shimmy and body pop. Of course, all the audience can see is a kebab-like brown lump slowly rotating at the side of the stage, but I know I'm hotter than Justin. Despite occasional snout collision, a dolphin and I manage a slow dance as Wayne sings White Christmas through a megaphone.

We leave the stage and I feel weirdly choked up, stopping to stare at the crowd for a few seconds. Everyone's clapping and looking so happy. For a split second I gain insight and a little understanding into the psyche of Robbie Williams. After the show, Wayne Coyne thanks us in the dressing room. The (fake) blood-stained frontman meets every animal, cheerfully signing stuff, posing for many a comedy photo and chatting about everything from suicide to inflatable suns. An end to an undoubtedly fun evening. But the experience also unleashed something primal from deep within me. A part of my soul is now forever bear. And that makes me feel like dancing. Nadia Shireen 14 November 03

The Flaming Lips – Ego Tripping EP, released 03 November 03 on Warner.

useful link: www.flaminglips.com