“Enjoy yourself; it’s later than you think,” warned ska favourites The Specials as they arrived on stage in silhouette behind a white drape.

It was an apt message for the Brighton Centre’s sell-out crowd of mostly male 40 to 50-somethings, who no doubt had a tad more trouble fitting into those braces and drainpipe trousers than they would have 30 years ago.

But, as the curtain lifted and Terry Hall, Lynval Golding, Neville Staple et al launched rumbustiously into Do The Dog, a bouncing sea of pork pie hats and balding heads proceeded to yell along at top decibel, joyously flinging beer and showing no signs whatsoever of slowing down.

Nor, thank goodness, did the band, who, despite a relentless reunion tour schedule, belted out all their greatest hits with the gusto of ten teenage lads at their first disco.

Sadly, original main man Jerry Dammers wasn’t amongst them, but Hall’s wry witticisms, Golding’s nutty leg-kicks and Staple’s Olympic stage dashes were more than enough to get the entire South Balcony “skanking” in their seats.

They sensibly avoided any new material – this show was about nostalgia – and as 5,000 rocksteady revellers whooped to Rat Race and chanted “rude boy”, we were time-warped back to 1979.

But The Specials have by no means lost touch. The anti-racism message of songs like Doesn’t Make It Alright remains as relevant as ever with the recent rise of the BNP.

Let’s hope they can inspire the next generation to continue putting the politics into pop.