The Afghan Whigs in The Academy, Dublin, on February 2nd 2015

The most telling part of tonight’s set from Ohio rockers The Afghan Whigs comes at the encore (“That’s the French word for go motherfuckin’ crazy for the band to come back on”), as singer Greg Dulli laps up the adulation and instructs the Academy crowd to “give it up like it’s the ‘70s!” The classic rock arena is indeed where the band belongs judging by tonight’s set of raging rockers, cock rock posturing, soft rock balladry, and fully stocked cheese platter.

The 2000s saw a period of reformations for the band after a tentative break-up in 2001, with seventh album ‘Do To The Beast’ released early last year. It’s that album that makes up the bulk of tonight’s show – their first since November – with Dulli the charismatic centrifuge of the whole kinetic cabaret.

Metamoros lays an early funk rock foundation, with a healthy dose of wah pedal sprinkled liberally through the set, and Debonair blasts in like some sort of mutated Jackson 5 with the drummer mouthing the words behind Dulli. A floor tom appears beside the singer before Royal Cream; “Let’s rock & roll!” comes the guttural scream, as Dulli abandons his guitar to gesticulate with a drumstick and pound the drum, theatrically and hilariously flamboyant.

That’s Dulli, though, an irrepressible ringmaster conducting proceedings with a sideways glance and frequent nod to rock cliché. He starts a club style House Of The Rising Sun, debunking the myth (“It’s been the ruin of many a tourist”) before it morphs into Algiers. A spoken intro over the organ accompaniment to When We Two Parted is more questionable, Jim Steinman pomp fronted by “Joliet” Jake Blues if you can imagine that, giving way to turgid rock balladry. But then when it’s all in danger of going past the point of no return into AOR territory, the band go full tilt on Gentlemen, and a fantastic Lost In The Woods that segues into The Beatles’ Getting Better with the crowd cooing softly with Dulli.

They rip through a four song encore; Summer’s Kiss, a storming take on the Twilght Singers’ Teenage Wristband, and Somethin’ Hot – anthemic rockers executed in the best possible way that seem to be leading to a crescendo of epic proportions. Then the unthinkable happens – an ill-advised, ill-fated cover of Across 110th Street that channels Rod Stewart in the cheesiest of manifestations. As the song slides into Faded, it’s with head-scratching admiration at the various guises this gig takes, from the incorporation of a variety of covers sewn into the songs, to the fist pumping rockers, to the “Hello *insert city here*, are you ready to rock!” style proclamations. It’s all done with such a knowing smile that any misgivings are banished. This is as enjoyable as rock shows get.