I’ve had a bit of a blind spot when it comes to Glen Hansard. Whether it was being asked outside for a dust up at a Frames gig (hardly his fault) or failing to make it the whole way through the Once movie, his music has never grabbed me the way it has so many others. Too many times, far too many times, I’ve seen perfectly good parties spoiled by someone insisting on attacking one of his tunes. Should the acoustic guitar be banned from polite society? It’s a discussion for another day.

Recently, I found myself having a drink with the man after a charity do, and he is, of course, a thoroughly decent chap. Ahead of this gig, as I take this stuff fairly seriously, I spent a day or two listening to his last album Didn’t He Ramble, and, as I’m sure most of you already know, it’s a soulful, beguiling listen. I’m particularly taken with ‘Wedding Ring’, ‘Winning Streak’, and ‘Her Mercy’, in which, respectively, I can detect faint traces of the DNA of The Waterboys’ ‘Strange Boat’, Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’, and Leonard Cohen’s ‘Bird On A Wire’. I’m not saying this to take potshots, but to acknowledge that his song writing stands up against the masters. And The Waterboys.

In light of the Manchester horror, security has been beefed up at the 3 Arena. Everyone is properly patted down and, despite being warned several times not to, many people have brought large handbags/rucksacks along with them. These are being confiscated despite protestations. I suspect we should all get used to it. I mention all this because as a result the arena is only half full when Hansard takes the stage at about 7:30, opening with ‘High Hope’ which segues into, there they are again, The Waterboys’ ‘Old England’.

It’s the first mention this evening of the shock British election results from the night before, Hansard spits out the never more relevant lyrics at a nation that has decided on chaos. The night’s first collective roar greets ‘Revelate’ which includes a brief snippet of Pixie’s ‘Broken Face’, followed by ‘When Your Mind’s Made Up’. The battered acoustic gets such savage abuse during this song - the stool also receives a Jerry Lee Lewis style boot - that Hansard retreats to the piano, while some poor roadie is left to preform emergency repairs backstage.

From the keys we get a beautiful ‘Bird Of Sorrow’ and then, introduced with a lovely tale of day drinking and slipping through the veil from the sober to the drunk, ‘McCormack’s Wall’. He’s back on the, possibly traumatised, guitar for Woody Guthrie’s ‘Vigilante Man’, the dedication to Ireland’s homeless prompting an angry exchange with an audience member, and finishes with ‘Way Back In The Way Back When’. He gets the standing ovation he deserves.

That time I was drinking with him, he was asked to play a song to a room of about twenty or so people: he did, and held them spellbound. He was able to pull the same trick off with thousands tonight. He told a story about how much Pearl Jam mean to him, how he would follow his friend into hell, that he believes Vedder.

Well, while I'm sure he was losing very little sleep about it, Glen Hansard has convinced me, I believe him. I am converted.

When Vedder himself arrives a short while later, he gets the full stamping, roaring, clapping treatment before he’s played a note at all. The room is crammed with long time worshippers, as the faded t-shirts and check shirts attest. Opening with a bit of Cat Steven’s ‘Trouble’ and Pink Floyd’s ‘Brain Damage’, he follows with a four-song blast from the Pearl Jam arsenal – ‘Sometimes’, ‘Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town’, Thumbing My Way’ and ‘I Am Mine’. Having never seen Vedder solo before, and having witnessed one truly arse kicking ‘Jam gig, I was worried that a certain power would be lacking tonight, but these tunes put me straight. He sings ‘Elderly Woman’ out the door and down the street.

Eddie’s love of The Who is no secret and, accordingly, we get a powerful version of ‘I’m One’ from Quadrophenia. Townshend’s influence is all over tonight’s performance: in this stripped down setting a lot of Vedder’s songs could pass for cousins of Who tunes, and his guitar-wrestling, especially on songs like ‘Porch’ and ‘Far Behind’, is pure Pete.

Confessing to staying up up all night for the British elections, he dedicates ‘Jeremy’ to the unexpectedly large youth vote. The song is set against the Red Limo String Quartet, so it’s very different than the arrangement we’re familiar with, but from the first note, the building shakes. It takes a while to figure out what is missing: it’s the phones! There aren’t any: mobile use has been strictly forbidden tonight, and the ban is enforced. So, instead of taking pictures no one will ever see, and shooting video no one will ever watch, people are singing along, arms raised, purely in the moment. Every hair on the back of every neck is standing up. It is, despite much competition, the highlight of the night.

The man himself seems to be having a high old time throughout: he tells stories, raises a glass several times, hugs a small child in the crowd, and even invites an audience member on stage to sing, for the triumph which could have so easily been a disaster that is ‘Black’. It’s all a far cry from the somewhat precious young man that emerged in the early nineties; he now seems perfectly happy in his own skin, as evidenced by the touching dedication to his wife and daughters before the lovely ‘You’re True’ (‘Pinball Wizard’ on a ukulele).

There were many other great moments – The Beatles’ ‘You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away’, the lump in the throat inducing ‘Better Man’, and ‘Just Breathe’, also backed by his string quartet. The only misstep is a version of Dylan’s ‘Master Of War’, not down to any lack of passion in the performance; it’s just a dirge of a song no matter who sings it. Hansard joins his pal for a beautiful reading of The Everly Brothers/Gram and Emmy ‘Sleepless Nights’, and then ‘Falling Slowly’.

Going on the reception it gets, the song is a shoo-in for new national anthem status. It’s not my favourite thing in the world, but I am obviously the only person in the square mile with that opinion. Our two heroes then take it home, literally, with ‘The Auld Triangle’, ‘Rockin’ In The Free World’, and ‘Hard Sun’, from the underrated Into The Wild soundtrack, to close.

Everybody’s heard that old line about a song only being any good if it can stand up on it’s own, played simply on one instrument. It was the power of such songs that made tonight’s Eddie & Glen Show the joy it was.