Manic Street Preachers were supposed to be the anti-establishment men who self-destructed. But playing old anthems to half-empty arenas in front of pictures of their younger selves felt like the act of a band who’ve turned into everything they used to hate.

James Dean Bradfield still has the most powerful voice in rock. Yet not since This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours has his bandmate and bass player Nicky Wire penned anything noteworthy for Bradfield to sing.

New one Europa Geht Durch Mich, taken from their forthcoming 12th album, was memorable for its grinding, industrial, robotic rhythms rather than for its lyrics.

The record’s title track Futurology, backed by images of impenetrable buildings and rampant urbanisation, was sharper and reminded of earlier material of The Holy Bible era. Gazing backwards was a theme of the evening, the highlight an acoustic medley of This Is Yesterday and From Despair To Where, with Bradfield’s tender guitar work backing his booming voice.

That the Manics continue to write new material makes them more than their own tribute band. And here fans from every era had songs to savour from the trio’s chameleon-like back-catalogue.

But I can’t have been the only one who felt saddened by the flatness of this show.