New dawn for Sunset songwriter

These days, the 61-year-old is a mellower proposition. Last night, he was generous with his time in an almost three-hour set punctuated by a brief interval.

Moreover, he was kindly with some drunken hecklers ("Go to Brighton and harass the Labour Party!") and the old buzzard gave every impression that nothing would delight him more than to hear the crowd sing along (badly) to songs that were older than many of them.

Having created a fluffy atmosphere, Davies and his three-man band promptly set about proving that he is a great British songsmith and that the creative juices still flow.

A few elderly B-sides (Where Have All The Good Times Gone) and obscure album tracks (London Song: part evocative homage to our city; part riposte to The KLF's It's Grim Up North) were wheeled out for the purists and The Kinks' grim heavymetal years were ignored for everyone's benefit.

The hits, bar Come Dancing, Davies's last chart hurrah, were present, albeit mostly during the curfew-busting final hour.

While I don't recall Autumn Almanac ending abruptly with a curt "et cetera, et cetera" and his suggestion that the introduction to You Really Got Me "turned the world upside down" would not bear forensic scrutiny, the lovely Days was dedicated to its finest interpreter, Kirsty MacColl: it began with Davies's unaccompanied vocals, before evolving into pop and concluding with rock fervour.

All Day And All Of The Night was a supercharged punk whirlwind and Waterloo Sunset was pop music at its most beatific.

For the first time in decades, however, Davies's future is more intriguing than his past. Next year comes his first proper solo album, Other People's Lives, and full-scale renaissance beckons.

Displaying his trademark clash between cynicism and sentimentality, After The Fall bore comparison with his finest work, while The Tourist showed his powers of lyrical observation remain undimmed. It will be good to have him back.

Ray Davies And Band