The New Year kicks off with the re-release on CD of one of the classic rousing dance albums of the late 1960s - Fabulous Greatest Hits by Prince Buster, the Jamaican superstar of the Ska era. His songs still have the power to make a stadium shake, as demonstrated at London Arena by the veteran British band who took their name from track 13 on Buster's album and who started, and ended, their comeback gig with their own tributes to the man they call The Prince.
Madness, like their original hero, are great originators and survivors. Emerging not from Orange Street, Kingston but from London's Camden Town, they took the jaunty vitality of Buster's Ska, then added anything from white soul balladry to the English music hall. They notched up a remarkable 21 hits between 1979 and 1986 before splitting up, but with that many snappy and tuneful songs to their credit it was inevitable that they would be back. Once again, Madness seem to be everywhere, with yet another greatest hits compilation, yet another comeback tour, and even a West End musical, Our House, based around their hits.
They haven't reinvented themselves, but have become slicker and more professional as they are discovered by a new generation. The Arena crowd was predominately male and younger than the band, and acted like exuberant football supporters, complete with appropriate chants. The show started with a nostalgia blitz, with video clips of contemporaries like Ian Dury, the Clash or the Specials providing a reminder that Madness alone are still with us. When the band appeared they mostly sported designer versions of the trademark black hats and suits. They promised "a bumpy ride through our career", but then skipped through the old classics, from the singalong nostalgia of Our House and Baggy Trousers to the tuneful English melancholia of Grey Day, with so much jaunty enthusiasm that they could have been brand new songs.
It was all highly entertaining, but not quite enough. Most great bands are even better live than on record, but Madness stuck so closely to their records that there were few musical surprises, and so the witty segue from Driving In My Car to the Stones' Satisfaction came as something of a shock. As ever, there was a cartoon-like quality to the antics of Suggs and Smash, and when combined with the film clips projected behind them the effect was like watching a glossy video compilation. There was even a moment when the band all sat back to watch themselves on a video clip from the late 1990s, performing Drip-Fed Fred with Ian Dury.
This, and the equally excellent Lovestruck, provided a reminder that the band can still write great songs. They can cruise through the next decade or two trading on nostalgia, should they wish, but they are good enough to do more.
