Waterboys, Hammersmith Apollo, review - Telegraph "The Eighties were so crap, we had to invent our own," says Mike Scott, as he rambles amusingly through the genesis of The Waterboys classic 1988 album, Fisherman's Blues. Finding himself surrounded by synthesizers, drum machines and "people with tablecloths round their heads singing stentorian songs in faux Germanic voices," Edinburgh born Scott decamped to Dublin and assembled a new band. There had always been a debt to Bob Dylan and Van Morrison in Scott's epic, lyrical rock but now he delved deeper into the roots of what he called "the big music" - into folk, country and blues. Scott was seeking out something timeless, and 25 years later, this extraordinary anniversary tour demonstrates just how successful he was. In front of a backdrop depicting the ivy covered manor from the album cover, Scott opens the show solo, strumming Strange Boat, promising "We're working for a strange goal / We're turning flesh and body into soul." Musicians join one by one, until a five piece band comprising most of the original members are weaving a Celtic web around him, fluid waves of sparkling notes that feels as contemporaneous as improvised jazz but rooted in the dynamics of rock. Fiddle player Steve Wickham and multi-instrumentalist Anthony Thistlethwaite (mainly playing saxophone and electric mandolin) are fantastic, focusing in on each other to synchronise their intensely rhythmic and melodic playing and moving apart to let fly like solo virtuosos. Scott holds the centre with his acoustic guitar and a cutting singing style that has a kind of musical attack to it, so his striking lyrics are imparted with clarity and feeling. Behind this trio, original bassist Trevor Hutchinson is joined by the outstanding Ralph Salmins, a jazzy, free-flowing drummer who knows when to get busy and when to keep it tight. Scott is one of the great contemporary band leaders, as anyone who has witnessed different versions of The Waterboys can attest. He brings musicians together, provides a framework, and really allows them to express themselves in a fluid and fun manner, whilst guiding the dynamics of a show that can rove from the taut intensity of Don't Bang The Drum to the lilting mellifluousness of Dylan's North Country Girl, the smoky blues tenderness of Ray Charles" Come Live With Me to the electric two chord charge of We Will Not Be Lovers, delivered like the Velvet Underground ransacking an Irish pub. Dylan and Morrison may remain touchstones but, as a veteran performer, Scott leaves them in the dust live, at 55 still playing with revelatory joy and commitment. At the end, roadies bring on three stools, and band and crew pose in front of the backdrop, recreating the cover of the classic album they have brought back to such vigorous life, smiling and basking in the crowd's noisy roar of delight.