Paul Weller Fairview Park, Dublin★★★★☆Few things in life are as reliable as Paul Weller. He was all business under the big top in Dublin’s Fairview Park, keeping the chat to a minimum because he had songs from “two different centuries” to squeeze in. What talking he did was worth hearing. Before kick-off, a video interspersing clips of Ireland’s footballing glory with the horrors of Gaza delivered the message “Playing Israel is supporting genocide.” Uefa’s approval of staging the upcoming Nations League fixture behind closed doors at a neutral overseas venue doesn’t make it any more palatable. Pointing to the Palestinian flag on his piano, Weller later dedicated My Ever Changing Moods (“The past is knowledge, the present our mistake, and the future we always leave too late”) to “the people of Palestine ... it’s a genocide, you know the score. They are not forgotten.”There was equal fire in the music. Laying out their stall early, Weller and his eight-piece band, including a magical horn section, opened with the deep groove of Rip The Pages Up, originally a B-side from 2008, just to show how jewel-encrusted his songbook is. They then connected the dots by segueing from The Jam’s Precious into Curtis Mayfield’s Move On Up. It was that kind of night as the band “cracked on” through 30-odd songs from one of the greatest catalogues in music.It doesn’t matter which Weller you prefer, they were all here. More Jam with a brilliant Strange Town followed by Man In The Corner Shop from an immortal band who scored 18 hit singles in six years, some of them double A sides. They were all great but if you think they’re just for old men then you didn’t see the joy on the face of the young boy, hoisted on his dad’s shoulders, singing along to That’s Entertainment.If Weller’s 1980s vehicle, The Style Council, is more your bag, then he sorted that out with a jazzy Have You Ever Had It Blue and a joyous Shout To The Top! And if the solo Weller is your thing, he delivered with Broken Stones which proved that, despite the lighting of a crafty cigarette, his voice has lost nothing over the years, the slash-and-burn chords of Come On/Let’s Go, and an arse-kicking Peacock Suit closing the main set.Impossible to pick a highlight in a night made out of them but going from The Changingman, with its whooshing effects audible even down the back so kudos to the sound desk, into The Eton Rifles, which had the faithful going into advanced conniptions, takes some beating. And show me a better opening line than: “Sup up your beer and collect your fags, there’s a row going on down near Slough”.I’d love to tell you all about the closing A Town Called Malice but I was too busy throwing shapes just like I did as a 10-year-old watching Top Of The Pops back in 1982. The bloke beside wondered, given the breadth of material, if this was some sort of goodbye gig. The Woking Warbler’s obvious pride and delight shining from the stage makes me highly doubt that.