The acclaimed and infallible fount of knowledge known as Wikipedia, defines 'eccentricity' as “an unusual or odd behaviour… would typically be perceived as unusual, without being demonstrably maladaptive”. It is the morning after Peter Gabriel’s 3Arena turn, and reflecting upon the experience, my caffeine-stiff thumbs wander to the touchpad keyboard and type “eccentricity definition” into Google’s answer-pit. With the lightning-quick speed of a South Dublin café’s wifi, the top search result defines both the word itself, and somehow puts to letter some of what is the anomaly of Peter Gabriel.

At 15, in a one-hundred-year-old seminary-turned-boys school, the tenets of Gaelic football and Catholic guilt were the pillars holding up an all-powerful notion of manhood. Into this confounding maelstrom came, via my iTunes library, an album called Nursery Cryme by Genesis. Not the Phil Collins-led, shoulder-padded, synth-pop poster-boys of later fame – this was instead a group of youthful, awkward misfits producing deeply imaginative, power-house evocations of a hidden England: both fantastical and real, as well as archaic and theatric.

The lead vocal was the bait upon the hook, and upon further study, also the heart of the eccentricity. Through Gabriel’s intensely weird presentation, the band’s electricity could flow, and the young me was shown a way out of the smothering conventions propping up my teenage life. I happily bit the bait, and was reeled into a world which offered the comfort, confusion and potential of embracing eccentricity.

Peter Gabriel @ 3 Arena 25-06-23. Copyright Peter O'Hanlon/ hotpress.com

Fifteen years later, I’m seated in front of a giant disc, the surface of which bears a clock with its hands being scrubbed out and redrawn by a mysterious figure as each minute draws nearer to stage time. Surrounded by a 3Arena audience a few generations removed, I wonder what Peter Gabriel we are going to get: the dress-wearing, fringe-shaved outcast of the '70s, or the polished superstar of the halcyon shoulder-pad '80s. The three hours that follow seem to reflect Wikipedia’s suggestion – deeply strange yet perfectly accessible, eccentricity honed and seasoned, crucially bolstered with gargantuan heart.

Gabriel appears from stage-right, looking more wisened storyteller than rockstar frontman. In fact, the show’s opening minutes feel more akin to an elaborate TED Talk than Pop Concert – mood-setting soliloquy winning out in this most unusual of rock show intros.

The enormous circular screen slowly moves upward with a giant moon appearing on its surface, touching upon the roll-out of new album I/O, its single releases synced with the monthly lunar calendar. Gabriel is gradually joined around a small digital campfire by his eight-piece backing band. First, Gabriel and long-time side-man Tony Levin stoke a quietly powerful 'Washing of the Water' with just bass and electric piano. Then, just two songs later the stage is rearranged, and into the new single 'Panopticom' we are seismically thrust.

Peter Gabriel @ 3 Arena 25-06-23. Copyright Peter O'Hanlon/ hotpress.com

Gabriel loses none of his storytelling charm as the show strides quickly away from the opening section’s intimacy. Certain moments even recall the long, confounding story-intros Gabriel made his staple in those heady '70s Genesis years. These days, Lewis Carroll-esque English surrealism gives way to much more of that all-important heart.

In one moving interlude, a song intro builds quickly to a surprising shout-out to seventh Irish President and former U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights Mary Robinson, who is present in the audience. Standing to wave, she happily receives a prolonged, thunderous applause. Our singer-storyman brings this reverie to a hush, and almost whispering says: “Mary Robinson, you belong to the world, but this is home..."

Heart takes firm hold frequently to balance Gabriel’s often cerebral visions, with the emotional heft of bullet-proof classics like 'Don’t Give Up' or 'In Your Eyes' undercutting any potential strays into pretension. Gabriel chooses the late-point climax of the show to thank not only his band, but his entire crew from driver to merch seller, and they receive an ovation on par with the rapturous reception Mary Robinson received barely an hour earlier, their excited smiles beaming across the huge arena screens.

Peter Gabriel @ 3 Arena 25-06-23. Copyright Peter O'Hanlon/ hotpress.com

Wandering out of the 3Arena’s glass doors at show’s end, a word for my fascination with Peter Gabriel and the mammoth display I had just witnessed, had yet to come to mind. With Google’s help the following day, I drew up something from the well of this epic, plus-sized gig.

The eccentric is not always outcast or forced to hide in the shadows of bright convention. Through show of heart, the weirdest of minds can be accepted by the majority, not by conforming, but by being themselves in a human way. For one evening, thousands of the seemingly normal took the bait, together embracing the eccentric and, most of all, getting to the heart that charges it.

Junior Brother is a Kerry-raised, Dublin-based singer-songwriter. His latest album, The Great Irish Famine, is out now.