The Duke Spirit @ Deaf Institute, 23 Mar

Four years since they last pitched up round here, no new material to promote, and for the first time in living memory touts ply their greasy wares outside Deaf Institute. The Duke Spirt may have disappeared since 2012's Bruiser but the sold-out signs signal the loyalty of their fan base, and the reaction they provoke tonight over the course of a lengthy, career-spanning set confirms the strength of the audience's affections. 

Expanded by keys into a touring six piece, they plough into Cuts Across the Land, that pumping, snarling signature piece from their fiery debut. It still sounds like a future-proof fusing of blues-rock and alt stylings. It still sounds absolutely fucking incredible. And they toss it off first up, like they've got another dozen or more diamonds like it. Which, as it happens… 

Forthcoming album Kin is trailed by Hands, and Blue and Yellow Light, and both blaze bright, but it's the ersatz power ballad Here Come the Vapours that should have the hardcore drooling. As the atmosphere heats, the back catalogue is mined for gold. Lion Rip. Hello to the Floor. "We have never ever not played this next song," says Liela Moss before a pummelling Red Weather. Moss, a fireball from beginning to end, feeds off the room's energy. "You were always the best crowd, Manchester," she gasps before a closing Love Is An Unfamiliar Name. Well, of course. But the real lesson from tonight's giddy triumph is that no matter how strong the love, time apart is always worth its weight in gold.