Live Review: The Church & Regular John

The thought that among slightly more, er, 'mature' artists, only that guy from New Jersey can spin out three-hour shows that hold an audience's attention is proven mistaken. But even the Boss would trot out some hits to fill the time. However, The Church, with typical contrariness, play a self-proclaimed art-rock'n'roll show – deliberately avoiding those sometimes too-smart-for-their-own-good pop songs, for a set where only the most passionate trainspotters – sorry, enthusiasts – would recognise everything offered.

Regular John certainly don't offer what used to be expected of them, either. Now with keyboards and other gear colouring the sound, it's like they've escaped a straitjacket – perhaps of their own making – making a big fuzzy racket which gets you in. But this is about a 30-year-on band stretching and twisting and pleasing themselves – although, their clunky democracy eventually settled on each member choosing personal favourites for the sprawling setlist. Would Chaos ensue? Well, it did appear second song in.

And while we all wear our paisley shirts a size or two larger these days, they're obviously match-fit from the arena-and-vineyards tour they find themselves part of. And they're in sneering good humour: “Play Reptile, said no one in The Church, ever,” Steve Kilbey chides an audience member at one point. Songs are plucked from many albums, and a couple of centuries. Some are slightly more known: a tearing Almost With You rubs up against the grace of the later Sealine. The guitars of Marty Willson-Piper and Peter Koppes spiral and cascade through mood pieces such as Ripple, then floor it for a raucous You Took.

There's also beautiful oddities such as On Angel Street's emotional domestic storytelling among the abstractions, and some Kilbey interpretive dancing. Then, just to further underline their irascibility: “You really expect us to stand here and play Unguarded Moment? Really?” the bassist challenges. But, naturally, they do.

The final Tantalized sweeps and divebombs. It's 1am, but the band – and most of the faithful – are buzzing. It's quite a show of strength from a band that can sometimes appear so fragile.