Lean, mean and with an energy which defied his years - hell, anyone's years.

Paul Weller's stage presence was that of a demented ostrich as he strutted his way through a crowd-pleasing, greatest-hits set.

The Modfather? Maybe. Dad rock? Only if your dad can burst frantically onstage savaging his guitar and piano while belting out tunes at full throttle for two hours, pausing momentarily between numbers for a swift drag on his fag (it may not be PC or healthy but it was just so rock 'n' roll).

While his contemporaries may choose to embrace trees or blondes half their age, Well-uhh (as some factions of the audience seemed wont to refer to him) retains elements of the footballing, scowling, working-class hero who first gained notoriety when The Jam blasted their way into punk's consciousness 25 years ago.

That, though, was tempered by Weller the smooching, lounge lizard as expressed in the melting melodies and liquid lyrics of The Style Council.

Then came Weller the solo artist with tunes which fall into two camps: The rock-out surgers and the mid-tempo almost ballads. It was that rich solo material - including Wild Wood, The Changing Man and the haunting You Do Something To Me - which contrasted nicely with the Style Council's Shout To The Top and Ever Changing Moods.

Added to that was a recent retake of Eighties disco diva Rose Royce's Wishing On A Star and the revived Jam standards That's Entertainment and A Town Called Malice, which all hit home just how prolific and enduring his work has been.

Described variously as "quietly focused" or "monotonously unwavering", Paul Weller's performance on Monday was far from bland. He may no longer be an angry young man but there's no overlooking a passion which still burns.