Loose 'Lips

I was never much of a musician, but that doesn't mean that I don't have weird dreams of being on stage with one of my old bands. The dream tends to turn anxious when I can't remember the nimble basslines that used to be second nature. Sometimes the tuning is off as well and the other band members are more flakey than before. I tend to wake in a terrible sweat.

So imagine what it must be like for a musician that's actually achieved something during their time. I remember Joe Strummer telling me how he'd return in his nightmares to messy shows in Croydon and Glasgow, Wardour Street and Broadway. "These are the things that keep me awake at night," he confessed.

My feeling is that the guys from Horslips have been there also. It's been 30 years since they bowed out in Belfast, when Charles threw his fiddle out into the audience and a hand reached out to rescue this most previous souvenir. Now the old firm have gathered again in town, and they are quietly elated at the noise of the Odyssey audience. "Some of us have had work done," Jim laughs. "A couple of band members have had breast implants".

It's definitely a sentimental passage, a throwback to a time when the Irish entertainment industry was primitive and Horslips challenged the conservative order by bringing electric folk music and platform boots to parochial ballrooms. Some of the songs haven't dated so well, and after a lengthy guitar solo, a friend comments, "this is why punk rock had to happen".

But when you hear 'Furniture' or 'Trouble', all is forgiven. There's a deal of predictable mania for 'Dearg Doom'. The Celtic muse is roaring and Barry Devlin is a picture of delight. In an ideal world, Eamonn Carr would have joined them on drums, but he seemed content to watch from the mixing desk. And when they finish with 'Shaking All Over' - their finale from the last Belfast show - the cycle is happily complete.

Horslips were always about the mythology and tonight they added a new chapter to the legend.