Arriving late - due to circumstances outwith my control - I shoehorned myself into the bursting-at-the-seams Forum and caught the dying seconds of Catatonia's support set. What I did hear (not much more than a power chord fading into the ether) was good and I shall try to see them when they embark upon a headline tour of their own later this year.

Cutting my losses, I thought I would get most out of the Manics set if I went down the front, so I made my way towards the throng in front of the stage and waited. After the usual roadie-cheering and chanting, a massive roar greeted the dimming of the lights and the orchestral backing tape to "Design For Life". The band had mounted a large projector screen at the back of the stage, and on this were shown images of riots, fox-hunts, rugby matches and the like, interspersed with typical Manics quotes and slogans. Then, in a no-nonsense entrance, the band launched straight into "Enola Alone" - a soaring, visceral treat. Keeping between-song chat to a minimum, the band piled on song after song: ranging from classic material such as the wonderful "Little Baby Nothing" and "From Despair To Where", to current singles and album tracks like "Kevin Carter" and "Australia".

James' singing was as strong as ever, all face-screwed-up passion and intensity; he also treated us to his now traditional pirouetting around the stage with his guitar. Nicky Wire, looking casual and relaxed, mascara-caked eyes gazing into the ceiling as he mouthed the lyrics to the songs, provided effortlessly fluid and strong basslines as Sean beat out complex, tight rhythms, completely lost in the task at hand. A keyboard player added flesh to the bare and sharp bones that the Manics created, but the majority of the sound was theirs and theirs alone.

Having one of the strongest back catalogues of material of any band around today, the Manics treated each song as if it was the last; pouring all their effort and emotion into it. Reflecting the power of the material coming off the stage, the audience too were very enthusiastic, the heat becoming almost unbearable towards the end. James' solo acoustic sequence ("Small Black Flowers" and "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head") therefore came as great relief, allowing us to get our breath back and accept the water dished out by the security staff standing between the stage and the crowd.

The projection screen was used to great effect throughout the gig, particularly during "Faster" when the lyrics appeared, allowing everyone to singalongaManics; "No Surface All Feeling", played against a backdrop of hypnotic and hellish flames; and set-closer "You Love Us", when the original video - complete with Richey - was screened. Coinciding with the screening on Channel 4 of a rather dreadful and sensationalist documentary on Richey's disappearance, this was a far better testament and memorial to the absent guitarist than the tasteless tabloid journalism being shown on televison.

As the images of the "Generation Terrorists"-era Manics faded from the screen and the band departed, we were left with - apart from a dull ringing in the ears - proof that here was a band undaunted by the past and by media attention; a band at the height of their creative powers with the promise of reaching for even loftier goals. "You Love Us", once an ironic title, now represents a truth greater than the band ever dreamed of.