01/03 Arthur Lee & Love @ Academy, Liverpool

Of course, the last time a living legend visited Liverpool he died a few weeks later (RIP Joe Strummer), but you can't help thinking Mr. Arthur Lee is virtually indestructible. He's seen it all of course and survived drugs, madness, Christianity and having Shack as his backing band. Most recently a stretch in jail has ensured that this man will probably be joining Keith Richards and the cockroaches at the party to celebrate the apocalypse. If nothing else it means he has more than European finishing schools and Brooklyn loft parties to draw on for inspiration.

Tonight's gig is more of a celebration than last years Lomax appearance. If that was the nervous first date that this is more the full on cinema, dinner and then back to my place real deal. Walking on resplendent in Stetson cowboy chic, Arthur and his band launch into the Bacharach gone-bad revenge fantasy of 'Little Red Book', and there's a collective sigh of relief. His voice sounds amazing and the band are humble enough to let him have the spotlight he so thoroughly deserves. After a few more forays into his back catalogue, we are introduced to the string and horn section and allow the heartbreaking elegy to beauty and dread that is 'Forever Changes' unfold before us. To describe these songs as 'timeless classics' seems almost clichéd but how else do you describe these shimmering and vulnerable paeans to a world in which mariachi horns, sweet strings and dissonant guitars co-exist in such a way to make most other music irrelevant in its limit and scope of ambition. Kicking off with the deceptively nasty come on of 'Alone Again Or' and following with the down right apocalyptic twin guitar fire fight that is 'A House Is Not A Motel', Mr Lee ensures the crowd are forced back in their seats on this rollercoaster of emotional brilliance. It's a sad reflection on the times we live in that an album composed with the fear of conflict and prejudice dripping from its pores can mean co much today.

When Lee sings "By the time that I'm through singing / the bells from the school of war will be ringing" it should perhaps be a time of quiet contemplation, but we like the world around us are not allowed such mercies. That this music can be so romantically beautiful and yet so darkly powerful is simply breathtaking. Each song contains any number of images and words that cloud the optimism that precedes.

Angles shift and contradiction is the key - in 'The Daily Planet' these words are even placed directly over each other, leaving a narcotic blend of prettiness and pure evil - how psychedelic is that?

Of course all the pupils are here: various Corals, Zutons, Bandits, Shacks and La's have all drunk heartily from the Love shaped cup, something Arthur knows well. He has a strong link to Liverpool and pays tribute to the cities musical heritage by his very being. It's what makes this gig seem vital, so 'now' and not the standard issue hippie nostalgia fest it could so easily have descended into. Knowing nods to his troubles are signposted at regular intervals: 'The Red Telephone' with it's deceptively deadpan chant of "They're locking them up today, they're throwing away the key, / I wonder who it'll be tomorrow, you or me?" resonates in particular. By the time of the albums closer, 'You Set The Scene', Lee seems almost redemptive in his actions and words. The amazing horn and string sections almost steal the song such is their anthemic conviction but this is Arthur's personal vindication to us and the world. We are mere passengers but are presented with an irresistible template for being: "This is the time and life that I am living and I'll face each day with a smile / For the time that I've been given's such a little while and the things I do consist of more than style." The reception the great man is afforded at the songs climax is testament enough to the joyful experience we have just witnessed and it seems almost unnecessary that he returns.

His job here is done but come back he does to treat us with more highlights from his career, a euphoric 'She Comes In Colours', a moving 'Robert Montgomery' and a good humoured 'Everybody's Gotta Live' which drifts into a celebratory version of Lennon's 'Instant Karma'. Most weird of all we get a new song 'My Anthem' which manages to mention the Scottish Highlands and sounds like Big Country, but we'll gloss over that one. At the end everyone is grinning - words seem irrelevant faced with such a spectacle but as a great man once wrote - say that word and you'll be free.