Aziraphale is busying himself with tasting his drink, finding the glass a bit too big for just one hand, but the drink itself very sweet, and very strong. He raises his brows in a fairly impressed look. Not the best he's had, but he can come to like it.

His attention is called, and he looks towards the small stage. He makes a bit of a face over the bad singing, but he can commend their effort.

"Oh, I don't--" Hymns come to mind, but he hasn't partaken in that in centuries. Otherwise, he's not much for modern music... "Don't think I do."