From The Jam, The Arc, Stockton

I’D always thought it was a bit pathetic to tell you truth: Bruce Foxton, bassist and songwriter in The Jam and once a spokesman for disaffected youth, now a middle-aged bloke in a Jam tribute act.

But I don’t think that any more. The Arc was packed (at £25 a ticket) with grey-haired Jam fans, many of them of a certain age, myself included, jumping around like eejits.

I’d forgotten how much power those early-to-mid-period Jam songs had, just how damn loud, angry and joyful they were. And here was good old Bruce, the man who helped create them, belting them out with more energy than any insipid modern boy band. If he can make a good living playing them, well my metaphorical pork pie mod hat is tipped.

Finding myself half-drunk (I was far from alone) and knowing all the lyrics to songs I hadn’t heard in 25 years (again, far from alone), there were times I was stopped in my tracks at what we were all singing en masse. The songs were noisy and driving, yes, but they also had a message. They were a far more political and intelligent band than many of the more famous punk-era groups. Going Underground and Eton Rifles (apparently beloved of David Cameron to the annoyance of band leader Paul Weller) are fine examples. But it was the reflective, poetic, personal lyrics in songs like Start that made The Jam great. These guys have been "getting through" in two-minute bursts of power pop music for nearly 40 years. This was no tribute act. It was for real.

Chris Webber