UB40 / The Stranglers, NEC, Birmingham

If I were picking a punky reggae party, I think I'd prefer a Crass and Dr Alimantado double bill. Nevertheless, UB40's choice of The Stranglers as support act for their Homegrown tour could be described as a valiant act. The seedy pub rockers are now irremediably divorced from Hugh Cornwell, but they appear to be reinvigorated by the presence of new singer, Paul Roberts, and the February prospect of Norfolk Coast, their first album in five years.

It's hard to project The Stranglers' chunky rumble around such a large space. Maybe this is why Roberts comes on like he's attended drama school, gesticulating with an exaggerated theatricality, mannered in the rock pastiche mode. His voice can easily encompass the range of material, but it seems too smooth to negotiate the oily gutters of the old Stranglers repertoire.

And this is precisely what we get, the new material being withheld for the band's spring tour. The only preview is "Big Thing Coming", and they sound at their happiest when playing this rumbling newcomer. Oddly, the other tune that sounds comfortably embraced is "Golden Brown", their smoothest hit. "Walk On By" and "All Day And All Of The Night" sew up the covers, and there are bullish versions of "Peaches" and "Nice'n'Sleazy". The other instance of successfully shrinking the NEC's walls to pub-size is the closing rendition of "No More Heroes", opening with Jean Jacques Burnel's trademark bass chunter.

I've always thought that UB40 represented a kind of reggae for people who don't like reggae. Stand back (both physically, viewing a packed arena, and in terms of time, mulling over their 25 years of sustained chart success) and it's amazing to witness the mass popularity of an old-fashioned reggae combo, still attracting a fairly cosmopolitan crowd.

UB40's line-up is still the same as when they began. There's an air of directness to this band, something that can be picked up in the details. Notice that Michael Virtue chops away on a single, simple keyboard. No racks of excessive redundancy. When bassist Earl Falconer turns to his own low keys, a single unit suffices. Ali Campbell is the personable conduit for the crowd, but it's toaster Astro who's most often found at the stage perimeter.

When the familiar hits arrive in the second half of their two-hour set ("Cherry Oh Baby", "Red Red Wine", etc), it's all made clear: their sweet, melodic, poppy appeal.

This was the final date on the tour, peaking in front of a home crowd. Add the determined Yule-time party vibe and the usually anonymous NEC was in partying mode. At the end, droves of men were promenading in search of beer, getting ready for the extended encore. This climaxed with "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", a rare dancehall outing for this old spiritual, completing UB40s journey back to mainstream acceptance.