Blur, The Astoria, London

Not just pension life – Blur are back for a reason

The last time I saw Blur was the week Britpop was born. The brand new anthem "Parklife" was being lustily sung by a rapturous teen crowd and Damon Albarn was glorying in his ascension as pop's brightest new star.

That was nine years ago, and time has half shattered Blur. Albarn often seems sour and pompous these days, pop stardom beneath him, while his old band has appeared an irrelevance to him, after the global success of his side project Gorillaz. When Blur did reconvene this year, minus guitarist Graham Coxon, the only voice independent enough to make it more than Albarn's backing band, it was hard to shake the feeling that the group we had known was dead, split apart by boring adult conflicts. When you saw the new three-piece Blur peering from magazine covers, they looked as if they were there not to thrill pop again but collect their carriage clocks – not park life, but pension life.

But cynicism stays intact for perhaps two minutes of this gig. For their first appearance in the capital for three years, Blur's survivors shamble on as if the break has refreshed them and they can't wait to revive unfinished business. "Ambulance'', the opening track of the new album Think Tank, is immediately more dramatic than it ever was on record, deep blasts of guitar cushioning Damon's deceptively fragile voice, while red banks of disco lights blind the packed, ecstatic crowd.

When "Out of Time'' soon follows, with Damon brokenly pleading "Where is the love song, to set us free?'' over a swirling, novel arabesque background, you have to admit that Blur have come back for a reason. A knot of adoring fans forms quickly, just like the old days, and Damon starts shaking hands, and seems on the verge of surfing over them, without missing a single beat. From the first oldie, "Beetlebum'', the faithful are reassured that we won't be stuck in the present tense for too long, bouncing bodies shake the Astoria's ground floor like a revival meeting. "Girls and Boys'', the song which made Blur a household name, turns the stage into a trampoline for a band whose years seem to be falling away. And when "For Tomorrow'', the single whose promises of a hopeful future for modern boys and girls follows, it's hard not to start flashing back to our own younger years of the early nineties, when mature disappointments were infrequent and Blur seemed the voice of the future.

On stage, Damon is still a proud, laddish Mod at heart. The punk thrashes of the new "Crazy Beat'' and the classic "Song 2'' thrill the crowd. And by the time Parklife's "This is a Low'' closes the show, you're convinced: we do still need Blur after all.