Four stars
In the late 70s my first exposure to Adam and the Ants was underpass graffiti in Edinburgh.
Then, they were dangerous, subversive post-punksters whose name was being etched into suburbia walls with the Sex Pistols.
Nearly half a century on, there was a social media ripple of murmurs and grumbles when Adam Ant launched his long-delayed UK tour in Bournemouth – a delay he attributed to a stubborn “inflamed throat” that forced several dates to be postponed. With more than a few moans about his "flaky" voice and even his lack of movement from the southern England seaside town, could this be evidence Adam Ant was actually now a busted flush?
After he walked on stage on Monday night at Glasgow’s Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, wearing jet-black attire, a jaunty pirate’s hat and knee-length boots, all hesitation eventually evaporated.
From the first moment it was unmistakably the same man responsible for some of the biggest hits of that era which mixed new romantic glamour with gritty punk rock spite.
The boyish allure of Stuart Goddard aka Adam Ant endures, just framed now with a few extra contours of experience with his 71st birthday arriving this Monday.
With ten UK top ten hits from 1980 to 1983, including three UK number one singles to his name, it is no surprise that that swagger and tongue-in-cheek charm remains and some of the dance-moves are still sharp enough to raise a smile.
While Bournemouth was a mainly seated event, probably perfect for appreciative nods for a more gentile classical recital the punk and new wave roots of Adam Ant showed that it was the right move to have a designated standing area in Glasgow.
And Adam Ant did not just show up — he arrived with a bang. The crowd roared approval as the lights dropped with the opening bars of The Magnificent Seven before blasting into the electrifyingly raw Margaret Thatcher-inspired song that launched a career in Dog Eat Dog - a darkly tribal war cry that was the first top ten hit from Adam and the Ants.
And the dandy highwayman became a pirate ala Capt Jack Sparrow. With black coat, boots up to the knee, and a sideways smirk, it was clear this was not just about nostalgia - he was still playing the game with intelligence and verve.
A crisp rendition of Antmusic sparked by the trademark pounding double drum kits had everyone dancing and instantly transported back to the glory days: bass-driven new-wave beat, the cheeky lyrics and that energy remains.
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You could see that for many in the audience this was not just a show, it was a revisit to their youth.
Between the hits, there was little chance taken to talk to the audience, save for after he finished Vive La Rock when he said: "Good evening, Glasgow. So you fancy some Ant music do you?"
Though the throat had been a concern, his voice held up beautifully — clear, confident, still capable of hitting most of those familiar high-notes, even if it occasionally cracked ever so slightly, and in a live show that only adds to the human charm.
The set-list leaned heavy on the classics, Prince Charming, Goody Two Shoes and the breast-beating Stand and Deliver were delivered with just the right balance of polish and garage-edge. I did not even notice he did not include one of my personal favourites Apollo 9.
The shimmer of the 80s was there, but armed with the new technical muscle of today and a performer who has lived through decades, still comfortable in his skin, still able to connect.
Visually the show was a treat. The stage lighting moved from blood-red to icy blue, the pirate-hat silhouette became iconic, every time he raised his arms you sensed a mixture of theatricality and moody joy.
The audience — a mix of die-hard fans and yes even some younger converts — danced, sang along, applauded when the pop icon paused for effect.
There were a few moments when the floor seemed to bounce especially when Adam Ant took the very rare opportunity to seek audience participation in a mass Stand and Deliver singalong.
In a city like Glasgow, where the crowd is rarely simply passive, the response was enthusiastic. His energy seemed elevated, as though the delayed tour has given him a hunger. That hunger translated into pace: the show did not drag, the transitions were slick enough although there were times you wondered whether he wondered if he was entirely comfortable on stage.
If there was a minor gripe it is this: some of the newer material from his solo career, which he did sprinkle in did not land as solidly as the hits. For most it was about the familiar choruses turning it into a sing-a-long-a-celebration of a career that helped define the early 80s pop landscape.
Yes, he stood. Yes, he delivered. And he proved that ridicule is certainly nothing to be scared of.