Nobody under 25 will appreciate the pain of seeing the Human League on the Christmas circuit. Shouldn't they leave this kind of thing to lesser 80s rivals while they fade into dignified obscurity? Though the League's axis - sonorous baritone Phil Oakey and ever-foxy sidekicks Joanne Catherall and Susanne Sulley - look and sound better than they did at their electro-pop peak, their younger selves would have recoiled at the idea of prancing in the name of nostalgia.

The League reunited as a touring act seven years ago, and have spent the time buffing up their show. If old romantics are to claim a share of the live market, it may as well be this bunch - with their beautifully plinky synthesisers and female-led choruses - as this was the best example I've seen of the burgeoning revival genre. I even found myself snuffling during The Lebanon, as the girls, deadpan as ever, crooned implausibly about "1969, before the soldiers came".

Money had been invested in 80s stage decor: white sci-fi keyboards, metal arches criss-crossing the stage and coordinated clothes (black for Oakey, red and white for the women). Back then, this look was known as "futurism". Twenty years on, it felt mistily retro, priming the crowd for 90 minutes of greatest hits, with the emphasis on "great".

With one of pop's best back catalogues at their disposal, the League were all killer, no filler. Despite attempts to update some songs - statistics about the Iraq war scrolled down a screen during Heart Like a Wheel - they primarily did what they were paid to do. Sulley, a key figure of many men's formative years, was, of course, wailed at during Don't You Want Me? She came close to stealing the show, but Oakey - still handsome and lugubrious - wrested it back during a double whammy of Love Action and (Keep Feeling) Fascination. The only option, really, was to enjoy it.

· At the Corn Exchange, Cambridge, tonight. Box office: 01223 357851. Then touring.