While his albums have been softer and more “pastoral” than his previous work, neither adjective really applied to the arrangements that night – the songs were rocked up for the show, and had little of the ruminating quality that pervades his albums, without losing their maturity, forming what I like to call atmospheric rock. This, obviously, suited a live performance more, and the audience were able to move along to the songs exultantly. However, no one moved more than Anderson – he was a man possessed onstage- partly a curious mix of Todd Rundgren and Tom Verlaine’s angular appearances, Michael Stipe and Iggy Pop’s movements, but mostly a gracefully milder version of his former stage character, with his lightly nasal, slightly gravelly voice that would cut through a fog.

The austere Hymn was the opener, full of feeling and sincerity, aided in no small part by a significantly augmented richness in the sound system. Unsung and Brittle Heart were kind of epic in their feel, with the music stuck in eternal rock-‘n’-roll-breakdown mode, soothingly rousing in the way that good soft rock is. Empress/Clowns saw the band exit the stage, leaving just Brett, his guitar, and the crowd to make a connection through the somewhat sorrowful, brooding feel of the two songs combined, with some quite emotional swaying by the crowd. The songs that followed were even better, with the classic combination of a wistful, plaintive voice and teasing reverbed guitar on Chinese Whispers, and the more crusading feel of Back to You. This Must Be Where it Ends was played live for the first time ever, and this went down superbly with the audience. This song had a more rocking feel to it, with a harder rhythm section, wah-ed guitars, and a feeling of blissful relief from something unpleasant coming to an end. The Swans had a wall of guitar that served as the background for Anderson’s voice, like a philosopher’s, passing booming edicts. Funeral Mantra was a manic maelstrom of an encore, with his voice having reached fever pitch, and it and the drums plunged into the song’s concluding part, as he descended the stage to serenade the listeners more closely.

The trouble was that no amount of stage presence can compensate for an inexpertly arranged set. The idea was, evidently, to have a peak, a trough and then a peak in the feel; however, the first few songs did not build up enough to justify the placement of Ashes of Us and the acoustic break – it made one feel disoriented and lose focus, and dampened the acoustic bit’s effect as well. This undermines not only the performer, but the rest of the set as well. It seemed difficult for someone who wasn’t a dedicated fan of his to get into the songs, which often seemed lost between their original feel and that which they were made to adopt for the show (I personally was left a bit cold). Again, the rotunda was definitely not the best sounding place in the world, which was no help.