Having reunited to mark their 30th anniversary, The Specials toured in the spring, generating ecstatic reviews. Now they’re doing it again, firming up their place alongside Blur and Pixies as a rare band responsible for a reformation that is neither embarrassing nor half-hearted.

The obvious flaw is the absence of founder and songwriter Jerry Dammers, excluded after a public row that still smarts. When guitarist Lynval Golding generously dedicated A Message to You Rudy to both new keyboardist Nikolaj Torp Larsen and Dammers, ever-biting singer Terry Hall couldn’t resist adding: “It’s nice to work with a keyboard player who doesn’t have a god complex.”

The amazingly exuberant crowd seemed obvlivious to tension. Consisting largely of former skinheads who are now just bald, gazing down from the balcony at these pogoing domes was like staring into the machine that picks the Lottery numbers.

Hall, the only static presence, skulked and sneered and still sounded exactly the same as he did on The Specials’ brief but stellar run of hits between 1979 and 1981.

The rest of the band did a decent impression of the bus in Speed that can’t move below 50mph. All those sharp suits swiftly became bare chests and flapping shirt tails.

The music remained impeccable, speedy ska bounce-alongs that, thanks to angry lyrics about crime, the rat race and teen pregnancy, still sounded freshly penned. If they can skip the usual inferior new material, they will have done a fine job of maintaining one of British pop’s most special legacies.