Within the recorded medium, Great Big Sea are a controlled but exuberant experience, offering more than a nod to Newfoundland's heritage - its musical and seafaring traditions prominent throughout, imaginatively linked on occasions with pop and rock sensibilities. Despite their 'acoustic' approach, live they really push the boat out, pumping up the volume and taking the bulk of the crowd along with them in a rythmic thumping wave of energy. Dingwalls is a great venue for comedy, though for music I'm not so sure and with such a low ceiling the amplified sound had nowhere to go except straight in the face. Given that on the night at least 90% of the audience seemed around their mid-twenties, it probably meant that I was viewing the band from a different perspective, hence my reluctance to join the living writhing mass, moving as one in sweat drenched homage before thier heroes. Consequently, I may well be in the minority, but personally I felt that their undercurrent of subtlety, prominent on the studio sound, was stripped of its polish through this stance.

That said, this was still an enjoyable enough concert, especially during the moments when Bob Hallett's accordion, whistle, or fiddle forced their way through to the surface. Drawing heavily on their last two albums, a mammoth collection of twenty-five songs, with the occasional instrumental thrown in, were aired during a two hour performance, which included a single but lengthy encore. There was at least one offering from their rare debut album, a couple of covers with more illustrious origins, and one or two oddities which I failed to place at all.

Despite setting a searing pace for most of the set, the night was not without its more reflective moments, which illustrated just how well Great Big Sea can perform in harmony. Fast As I Can was a faultless rendering, as was the similarly paced How Did We Get From Saying I Love You, with its tragic sentiments of lost love. Particularly impressive were the periodic shanties, simply acappela or starkly sung over a solitary bodhran beat. A run of these featured during the encore, which also included the grim commentary of The Chemical Worker's Song.

Getting as close to the sound of the Pogues as is possible, drinking songs such as The Old Black Rum and The Night Pat Murphy Died were delivered with fear and loathing, but with considerable clarity despite the obvious level of frenzy. Consequence Free and Haven't Seen You In A Long Time illustrated an easy transformation to a basic pop sound, while the excellent Lukey was featured in re-worked form, which Alan Doyle explained had recently been re-recorded with the Chieftans for a compilation album entitled Fire In The Kitchen. Unfortunately, the loss of the studio version's stunning mandolin passage weakened this latest metamorphosis. Equally, the dexterity of vocal gymnastics needed to reproduce a version of REM's It's The End Of The World As We Know It and the band's own Mari-Mac were lost through the volume reaching critical during both renditions.