Darth Vader likes pizza, according to Brian Fallon's rather rambling onstage chat.

The Gaslight Anthem singer cuts such an imposing onstage presence it would seem unwise to doubt the truth of this, but it's a shame his band didn't conjure up anything as off-the-wall as that statement.

They're a reminder that sometimes all that bands need are guitars, bass and drums to create a lively racket. The huge popularity the New Jersey outfit now enjoy would indicate there is still a substantial audience for hand-on-your-heart rock'n'roll and the manner in which each song became a communal sing-along was testament to the enduring power of such music.

Yet the group has shifted somewhat in recent years. There was energy there but the raw, fiery anger that brought comparisons to the Clash at previous gigs appeared lacking. The '59 Sound and American Slang were booming, however an emphasis increasingly fell on generic arena rock anthems, especially from the recent Handwritten album.

Perhaps the blame was with an odd sound mix, or maybe the addition of an extra guitarist had adversely affected matters, with the result a set that was one-dimensional, all big drums, oh oh chants and earnest fist-pumping.

No matter how good they are at that, it was in dire need of some subtle balance, yet it only arrived with the lazy charm of Here's Looking At You, Kid. There were unquestionable moments that displayed why the band remains special – a rousing The Backseat, the build of The Queen Of Lower Chelsea and the thrust of 45; however, the remainder displayed how bands can provide too much of a good thing.

HHH