It begins like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting – except there is a curious tone of denial among the attendees.

‘My name is Kim and I am not a Swiftie,’ says one. ‘I’m Judith and I’m not a Swiftie,’ says another. ‘I don’t know the names of any of her albums.’

Wilma admits that she is aware of a song called Shake It Off but, apart from that, she is a complete abstainer.

Several members of the class politely aver that they are ‘here to learn’.

As, indeed, am I. The largest gap in my knowledge is an understanding of my classmates’ motives for attending a Glasgow college’s crash course on the hottest pop star on the planet. So they are not fans. No shame there. Appreciation of her oeuvre is not compulsory.

Yet here they are, giving up a weekday evening for an education on a cultural phenomenon to which they were ­hitherto content to pay no mind. What has ­happened to them?

The answer for most is they have become holders of some of the most precious briefs in the history of live music in Scotland. They will number among the estimated 215,000 watching Swift perform hits spanning a near two-decade career during a three-night residence at Edinburgh’s Murrayfield Stadium next month.

If they only know Shake It Off, it could be a long evening. Performances on her Eras tour have been clocking in at three hours. And she might not even play that one.

Besides, there are Swifties out there who you fear would lop off limbs for the chance to catch their heroine at Murrayfield. Alas, they missed out in the scramble for tickets – which vanished in a heartbeat – and they have been inconsolable ever since.

The least those who succeeded in bagging briefs could do in the circumstances, perhaps, is learn a lyric or two and achieve a passing knowledge of the exes they may or may not be aimed at.