STEVEN'S NIGHT
MORRISSEY (Olympia Theatre, Dublin)

Common wisdom has it that Morrissey is at probably the lowest ebb of his career. Currently label-less, he's running out of record companies to take up his cause; he has more foes than friends left in the British media; and his core fanbase is shrinking to such a degree that two concerts scheduled for the National Concert Hall were reduced to one in the Olympia.

But if you were a Morrissey fan, things couldn't have worked out any better: firstly, the Concert Hall's supercilious formality may be ideal for Beethoven but is a ludicrously unsuitable venue for rock'n'roll. And so the last minute switch to the Olympia was an excellent result.

The moment Morrissey strode on stage, the enduring adoration this man inspires in his people became clear. Resplendent in blue silk jacket, speckled trousers and West Ham Boys Club t-shirt, Morrissey is in far better shape in his fortieth year than most people could have predicted: the thought of Moz working out in a gym does not compute, so one presumes it's the Californian sunshine that's done the trick.

The set was an interesting hop, skip and jump through the back pages of his solo career, taking in five of the six studio albums (Kill Uncle drawing the short straw). The Dick Dale twang-a-thon of 'You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side' opened proceedings with deputies Boorer and Whyte coming out with all guitars blazing. 'Boy Racer' and 'Billy Budd' kept up the vigorous pace before 'November Spawned A Monster' allowed Moz a breather and Boz Boorer a chance to demonstrate his, er, experience with a keyboard/recorder thingy.

The security barrier up front means that there's no possibility of a repeat of the famous Stadium gig when everyone bar the caretaker and the ice cream seller mounted the stage to touch the hand of Moz. One daredevil does make it, after jumping from the balcony, but mostly the Moz diehards make do with throwing envelopes containing their life story/unmarked 20 pound notes onto the stage or raising signs inscribed with droll messages above their heads.

For his part, Moz - who has always had an intuitive grasp of showbiz etiquette - tosses his discarded t-shirt to collective lions (only to get it back again!) and dons a special black Republic of Ireland jersey for 'Roy's Keen'. The charmer!

He's even in a good mood to play three Smiths songs - a chirpy 'Is it Really So Strange?', a suitably eerie 'Meat Is Murder' and, for the encore, a marvellous 'Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me'.

But this was no dream - Dublin still does love him.