MORRISSEY is like Marmite. The reasons that some adore him are the same as why others despise him.

He can be vain, opinionated, rude and arrogant. His songs can be depressive to the point of utter despair. But if you go to see Morrissey that is precisely what you want to see from Morrissey.

One die-hard fan next to me remarked “look at what a poser he is” as he came on stage and belted out International Playboy – but the comment was paid as a compliment.

If anything Morrissey was less archpolitical and antagonistic than we gave grown to expect. Aside from a minor dig in the direction of the Churchill Square branch of HMV and a side swipe at the Brit Awards he was almost a ray of sunshine in his pleasant demeanour.

Which only served to be slightly disappointing.

The reaction to How Soon Is Now showed the demand for more of the Smith’s back catalogue to be included, but an excellent cover of the Pretenders’ Back On The Chain Gang and Everyday is Like Sunday didn’t leave the audience waiting for belters.

Yes, Morrissey divides opinion. He is almost certainly too old to wear so many buttons undone on his flouncing shirts – or to strip them off and fling them into crowd in his dad-dancing manner.

But who are we to be so image-conscious and ageist when his voice is still rich as mahogany?

Just climb down off your high horse long enough to throw in a couple more of The Smiths’ greatest hits.