Super Furry Animals, O2 Brixton Academy

The timing of this tour, to celebrate the 15^th anniversary of their self-released, lo-fi masterpiece Mwng, could not be more fitting. The album was inspired, in part, by Welsh language punk band Datblygu, and the left-wing political feelings that ran through that band’s work.

Fast forward to now and London looks like an island of red surrounded by a sea of blue following the recent election – and there are a lot of people here aching for escape after Thursday's events.

The tour has the air of a retrospective. The songs from Mwng, including the sea-shanty sway of “Ymaelodi A’r Ymylon” and the gentle, soothing soar of “Y Gwyneb lau”, are gathered together in the middle section, surrounded by gems from a mostly impeccable slew of albums over the band’s 20 year career. It’s wilfully celebratory and catches the mood perfectly: as one observer put it, "There’s so much love in the room."

Throughout the gig, the band, led by Gruff Rhys and all dressed down in white overalls, show such strength, depth and sheer variety that it’s hard to imagine another who could match it. The urgent, incessant drive of “Rings Around the World” launches straight into the pure pop punk of “Do Or Die” barely missing a beat, before everyone in the room is given reason to ask whether “Ice Hockey Hair” could be the best song ever written. The truth of the matter is neither here nor there, because for five minutes in Brixton Academy it is – no question.

The Man may not give a fuck, but Super Furry Animals do

It’s a commanding performance, both bold and brassy (literally, with the mariachi-style horns cutting through perfectly thanks to some very sympathetic work on the mixing desk). The Mwng suite is a revelation (previously the songs have only been heard live in America and Japan) and offers a new dimension to the SFA experience: more contemplative perhaps, but no less enthralling. “Run Christian Run” soothes, “Hello Sunshine” hugs and “Zoom” stops the room, if not the clocks, dead in its tracks. The finale, complete with the cacophonous choral build straight out of the Jean-Claude Vannier songbook, is simply staggering.

A short break allows the band to re-emerge to possibly the best show opener they have in “Slow Life”, at which point smiles break out on almost every face I can see. I know what’s coming, having been at Cardiff University last weekend, and they have good reason to smile. The Barry White strings of “Juxtapozed with U” begin and the song – addressing concerns of the super rich and the struggling masses flailing in their wake, has rarely sounded so apposite. The energy builds throughout the bounding stomp of “Golden Retriever” through to “Receptacle for the Respectable” – the best song Jeff Lynne never wrote. Then, almost without notice it seems, the yeti costumes are back and we are launched into the song that everyone wants – needs even. The cathartic rush and punch-the-air righteous fury of “The Man Don’t Give a Fuck” has rarely, if ever, sounded so furious. The Man may not give a fuck, but Super Furry Animals do and, in return, they command love, even while whipping up anger. It’s a wonderful, glorious wave of release and, as always, provides the perfect ending.