Look carefully and you’ll see this lot all over town today; fixed grins, tired limbs and the embers of excitement still flickering in their eyes.

Yup. They were the lucky so-and-so’s at the Blur gig last night.

If you weren’t there, try not to ask them about it unless you’re prepared to spend the next half hour hearing how Damon Albarn is a god-like genius, how they’re going to nail Glastonbury at the weekend and why-oh-why did anyone ever think Oasis could be better than this?

Click here to see more pictures from the gig.

Also click here for Twitter coverage of Blur in Wolverhampton

Ah, it’s all true of course. Blur are the thinking music fan’s national treasure for good reason.

While Britpop floundered into Britplop, the Essex four-piece were always ahead of the game; changing styles and cracking America with ease as the Gallaghers huffed and puffed their chests out in vain. And so it came to pass that 15 years after their era-defining Parklife tour, the art-house indie kings were back at the Civic, armed with a canon of their generation’s finest music.

Brilliantly, nothing had changed.

Albarn, in particular, looked almost unmarked by the passing of time (it must be all that running on the spot). A dog-track-bling gold tooth sparkling from his cheeky chappy grin was the only concession to his 41 years. And we got to see plenty of it as he beamed his way through an earth-shattering greatest hits set, clearly loving every minute.

Blur came prepared for Sunday’s Glastonbury Festival slot, supported by four vocalists, a three-man brass section, keyboardist – and 3,000 Black Country backing singers, largely out of tune, but never out of time.

Atmospheric opener ‘She’s So High’ hoisted the standard and when it was quickly followed by Boys and Girls and There’s No Other Way, you knew this was going to be special. Six minutes in, the roof on the Civic was already lifting.

These crowd-pleasing early career efforts gave way to the more subtle Beetlebum soon after, showing off both the band’s musical range and bringing the first big singalong of the night, although many would follow.

Normally at this point, reviewers pick out a few tracks as highlights. Forgive me if this list is longer than usual, but quality on this scale doesn’t roll into town very often.

So here we go; Out of Time, Tender and This Is a Low for the slowies, Parklife, Country House and Sunday, Sunday for the jumping around and Song 2 for . . . just about everything.

Other memorables included Dave Rowntree’s peerless percussion, Alex James getting the double bass out and Graham Coxon’s Spinal Tap backward roll.

It all got too much for one excited reveller who whipped off her hefty bra and launched it from the balcony during the encore, landing like a parachute on the packed front rows. Moments later, young Damon managed the same thing; finally evading the security staff to hurl himself off stage and crowdsurf atop the delighted throng.

Back in 1994, he performed the same trick. At the time, we thought it was the sort of jaw-dropping gig that comes along once in a lifetime.

Well, now we can make make that ‘twice’.

And when it looked like we might have made it to the end, there was still The Universal to close, acclaimed with a deafening standing ovation before the band said their thankyou’s, grabbed their wellies and set sail for Somerset, Springsteen – and a battle with The Boss that they’ll probably win too.

Review by Keith Harrison.

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