Live Review: Belle & Sebastian

The songs of Belle & Sebastian have always felt older than the band itself. In the beginning, they were like children trying on sets of clothes made for adults (children with impeccable taste).

They've reached an age that finally feels on par with their material. Some of the goofy twee charm has been lost in the process of growing older, but their youthful exuberance has proven indefatigable and remains largely undiminished. They've always been hyper-aware, of themselves and their audience, but despite this clarity of vision, the innocence of their sound is still one of their key features and is an increasingly rare commodity to be cherished. They've been missed in the interim since their last appearance in 2015.

They looked comfortable on stage in the Concert Hall. It was, from start to finish, a really relaxed experience. Most bands seem to have a preconceived idea about how to behave in the Opera House, and come across perhaps more rigid while performing in such austere environs. Not so the Scottish troupe. The Boy With The Arab Strap was a great opening choice, its breezy nonchalance sweeping away any percolating doubts or formalities. The impish Stuart Murdoch was charming, gyrating and grinning through a generous set, while his lanky counterpart Stevie Jackson warmed up as the night progressed. A sharply dressed Robert Forster made a surprise appearance late in the night, laying down a cocky version of his own song Learn To Burn, and a cover of Orange Juice's Rip It Up that was unfortunately a bit of a mess.

The show was heartwarming, if a little uneven. When they were off, it never reached cringeworthy lows, the atmosphere just sort of evaporated. When they were on, like the sublime The Fox In The Snow or the blushing brilliance of Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John, their whimsy swept us all up in the lightest autumnal air imaginable.