Backstage a couple of hours before their Los Angeles concert, all is calm and contained within the quiet suite of green rooms reserved for the quartet of young and winsome men that make up Il Divo.
David Miller, a tenor and the sole American in an otherwise European group, is playing on a shiny lacquer-red Baldwin piano. He eases himself up and settles into a comfortable black leather couch; he is joined moments later by his Spanish baritone Carlos Marin, French pop singer Sebastien Izambard and Swiss tenor Urs Buhler.
'It's not exactly old hat,' says Miller, referring to the lack of pandemonium in the room. 'By now, we're comfortable with what we do. We don't have nerves.'
The pandemonium is taking place outside, in front of the gates leading to the Gibson Amphitheatre in Universal City where Il Divo are to perform. With still a couple of hours to go, legions of people have gathered there, waiting for the gates to open. They are largely female, and older than the women who turn out for, say, the Jonas Brothers. Indeed, in the entire gathering, one is hard-pressed to find too many women under the age of 40. 'It's always like this when this group perform,' says a security guard of the confused frenzy among the crowd. 'We won't get this when Gwen Stefani is here later this week. It's just the demographic.'
Il Divo - who are bound for Hong Kong for a one-night-only performance later this month - inspire the same level of fandom as the likes of the Jonas Brothers, although perhaps without the tattoos and chewing gum. The Gibson is packed almost to the rafters, with audience members proudly wearing their Il Divo T-shirts and caps.
This is, after all, a group who have done what few others have.