Let's look at the history that has led us here. At the dawn of Britpop, a band as idiosyncratic as The Smiths, as glamly androgynous as David Bowie and as dark as Joy Division swathed tales of concrete jungles in orchestral opulence. Suede sang of picnics by the motorway, of heroin and racism and made Asda sound romantic.

It's been too long since they went away. Since Brett Anderson pulled the plug with two incredible nights at Brixton Academy and the Astoria, leaving us with a claim that the band had stagnated and a promise to See You In The Next Life... (I bought the t-shirt).

In between, he treated us to The Tears, a delve back into the past of what could have been, had original guitarist Bernard Butler not left at the height of the band's fame for one great single and a career of unfulfilled promise. The Tears sounded just like Suede did once and yes, we welcomed it, but ultimately it was a project that was going nowhere either.

But now Brett's back, with a new album and a set that's no longer afraid of the past, content and confident and sure of who he is: one of the most talented performers of the past 15 years.

Tickets for tonight and the two subsequent shows sold out in minutes but it's a curious crowd that stands beneath Bush Hall's chandeliers. The eponymous new album has been all over the internet for more than a month (it's not officially released until the 26 March) and yet the audience barely seems to know any of the songs: a few nods to forthcoming single Love Is Dead, already familiar from the radio, but that's all. Only one emo teen, wearing a See You In The Next Life t-shirt, seems to have bothered to do his research.

Brett doesn't seem to mind. Exuberant and energetic, in top shape and on top form, he belts through the forthcoming album, offering a set of all-new material. One Lazy Morning sounds particularly like the anthemic Suede of old, Dust and Rain is the new generation's paean to the needle, and Song For My Father puts to rest the ghosts that haunted The Tears. In the middle, he throws away Suede obscurities to sort the wheat from the chaff. Most of the audience don't even notice.

The new songs sound strong and fully-formed, a good bridge between the sweeping orchestration of Dog Man Star and the designed-for-live-performance Coming Up and Head Music. If Here Come The Tears was the album that would have followed Dog Man Star, this is the album that would have followed A New Morning. It's not a new direction, it sounds like the Brett we know and love, but if you've missed him it's a welcome return.

He leaves the stage to an audience who like what they've heard and comes back with an encore that thanks them more than they deserve. A haunting, pared down, acoustic version of The Wild Ones, a truly anthemic Everything Will Flow, and a last shout of Trash, for all of us who've been there before and who wished he'd never gone away. Brett Anderson is God. No argument.

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