The arena lounges in a kaleidoscopic cascade of Christmas lights, five self-assured figures swagger around the stage� and the audience, not wanting their presence to be ignored, make sure that they let everyone within ear shot know that they are well and truly mad for it. This is what you call one hell of a homecoming.�

Tonight, Tim Burgess is like the little kid who�s just opened the best Christmas present he�s ever had. There may not have been time to wrap it up or tie ribbons around it, but he�s not bothered. When you get your first BMX, for instance, you don�t want to waste time ripping the paper off, you just want to get out and ride. And this is exactly what he does with the packed arena that he�s just been handed on a plate. It doesn�t seem to have been a wasted gift either, judging by the frequency of his thanks which litter the song breaks. You could probably throw away the receipt quite safely now.�

Christmas in The Charlatans household has most probably changed quite dramatically over the years. They�ll have moved on from getting a tangerine and a lump of coal in their stockings if they were lucky, to eating turkey, stuffing and sprouts for Christmas dinner and now, at the peak of their success, they could be banqueting with the Queen and buying each other small Caribbean islands, for all we know. �

You can�t deny that they haven�t had it particularly peachy over the years, with jail sentences, their music falling in and out of fashion, and even the stupid death of organist Rob Collins in a car crash. Credit to them then for outshining and outlasting all of their Madchester contemporaries of the early �90s and continually proving their strength with such blistering live shows.�

Although the set was largely based on the last two, rockier albums, there were some simply scorching reminders of their baggy past "for those of you that have been here as long as us". �Can�t Get Out of Bed�, �Weirdo�, �Sproston Green� and of course �The Only One I Know� flash past at warp speed and make you wonder just how they managed to live in the shadows of other, perhaps lesser bands, for so long.�

The huge television screens above the stage flicker in and out of life during the first few songs, but even those in the far flung reaches of the arena�s heavens manage to make a connection with their feel-good beat-the-odds vibe and accordingly dance till they can literally dance no more. Beer gets spilt, pants swing and everybody buzzes with appreciation. �

Tim may trip out of tune occasionally (let�s face it, he�s not exactly what you�d call a �proper� singer) and the others may make the odd mistake here and there, but the feeling�s there, which is by far the most important thing. When you lose the feeling you turn into Echo and the Bunnymen. �

The Charlatans are arrogant in their performance , but still thankful to those that got them there. They�re on the crowd�s level, but so far above them that they can be adored. They�re one of the few bands that can successfully translate gentle pop songs into huge arena slaying anthems.�

They�re a band you can rely on. A band that know if they�re knocked down, they�re sure as hell going to get up again. �

They�re a band that never ever disappoint.