U2, O2 Arena, gig review: The Innocence and Experience tour risks becoming The Bono Show

One decade and two albums since they last released a memorable song, U2’s triumph is in producing one of the most unforgettable arena shows most people will have seen - despite the body of old favourites being peppered with mediocre new tracks the band couldn't even give away for free without suffering a backlash.

With the help of a giant, movable, immersive video wall - that not only turns the gig space into an IMAX cinema, but allows the band to walk inside and become as one with the graphics - their Songs Of Innocence actually feel a worthwhile part of this performance rather than a burden. Yes, the latest material sounds a bit humdrum on an iPhone, and coming first out of the blocks here The Miracle of Joey Ramone is loud and rocky but not quite in ‘thrilling opening number’ territory. From here on, though, the deeply personal roots of the latest album connects with the audience unexpectedly well, laregely thanks to the vivid, eye-filling illustrations accompanying them on the screens. Iris features images of Bono’s mother - who he reminds the faithful died when he was 14 - while Cedarwood Road allows the singer to walk down his Dublin childhood street, after a glimpse into his bedroom with Clash and Kraftwerk posters on his wall. The songs blossom as their meanings emerge through the pixels as much as the lyrics.

If there is a downside to all this, the 'Innocence + Experience' tour - which moves to Glasgow next week after several more London dates - does at times risk becoming simply The Bono Show. It's hard to imagine a U2 gig focused around anything other than their earnest, irrepressible and divisive lead singer, of course. Yet from the moment he enters the arena under a spotlight with a strut down the catwalk stage (as Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jr and The Edge quietly take position while nobody notices), this performance is even more about the frontman than usual. When he turns Bullet The Blue Sky’s traditional anti-war protest into a monologue about the dubious merits of his own status as a globetrotting millionaire charity campaigner, it's walking a fine line between a rare sign of celebrity self awareness and the most awkward kind of self obsession, and probably falls into the latter.

Besides all this, however, the old songs are what most people have paid money to hear - and they sound as good as ever. Sunday Bloody Sunday is stripped back with Mullen using a marching drum, the Achtung Baby era songs are simultaneously rasping and groovy, and Where The Streets Have No Name - as it segues out of Zooropa - still deserves to act as the spiritual lynchpin of any U2 gig.

Vertigo might be their last bona fide hit, but as a touring group if not a recording one, U2 are still finding new ways to thrill their fans.