It was like going to a school re-union 15 years on and realising the most popular kid in your class worked at the same Poundstretcher and was still living at home with his parents.

Everything about the gig stank of self-indulgence.

The bassist looked like he was trying to pick apart the students who hadn’t showered for three days and those who hadn’t showered for four.

Two backing singers looked dead behind bored eyes and they’d brought Sigmund Freud back from the dead to play keyboards.

Lead singer Brendan B Brown had his back turned to the majority of the audience as he whined his way through a monotone set list.

After every song, he would turn to his bassist and ask what song they should play next before picking out an uninterested crowd member and declaring they’d asked for an obscure B-side.

He might as well have been saying, “Scream Teenage Dirtbag at us so we can feel loved again”.

When Teenage Dirtbag eventually came about, they managed to ruin it by splitting it into four cringeworthy quarters which included a cowboy rapper swearing a lot and an open invite for the band’s friends to come on stage and take videos of them.

The only positive of the night is that they didn’t return for an encore.

One star