Derry the Hobbit by Neil Norman

AN UNDERTONES backlash is well overdue. Even they must be tired of hearing how amazing they all are. The inordinate amount of favourable press they have received since they first began in 1977 must eventually create an adverse reaction in someone - somewhere. Who cares if they're an irrepressibly likeable bunch of Derry micks? They're just blokes after all and their apparent indestructibility is bordering on the obscene.

I remember being at school when Tolkien became fashionable - and everyone and his brother carried battered copies of 'The Lord Of The Rings' around in their briefcases - endlessly quoting passages about Gandolph - Frodo and bloody Mordor. I refused then to read it on principle - and I still haven't got round to approaching the fantasy to end all fantasies. And The Undertones may have to face a similar prejudice now. But in the incongruous vastness of Guildford's Civic Hall the full crowd waited less in tense excitement than in joyful - almost complacent anticipation for their favourite heroes. Three-piece support band Moondogs played a hectic - raucous set which I was distinguished mainly by their appalling nerves. Although it warmed up the audience for the main attraction they could i have been almost any rock band. The first thing one notices about The Undertones is their complete lack of pretence and their refusal to compromise to the star system affecting everyone from Shirley Bassey to The Police. They probably act the same way now as they did during those early Belfast gigs.

Unfashionable without being aggressively antifashion - their If scruffy - down home appearance is at its most effective in Feargal Sharkey - singer and focal point of the group. His old young face reflects the qualities of his voice which combines insolent teenage innocence with the more mature aggression of Roger Chapman. The rest of the band - the brothers O'Neill - Mickey Bradley and bash away drummer Billy Doherty sustain an anonymous visual while producing that clipped - concise rock undercurrent that washes through the mind and tugs at the toes.

And it doesn't just affect the pack of devotees at the front of the stage. The whole place was moving. It's difficult to select aspects of the band for critical purposes simply because all the elements one normally discusses are so well integrated within the structure of the whole. The single most impressive feature is their newly-developed songwriting abilities.

The ironic 'More Songs About Chocolate And Girls' - 'My Perfect Cousin' and my personal favourite - 'What's With Terry' shine like beacons alongside the superficial exercises of 'Teenage Kicks' and 'Here Comes The Summer'. This is - reinforced by the new album which comfortably includes 'Under The Boardwalk' whereas on the first album it would have stood out like a perfect finger among a handful of sore thumbs.

They performed it for the first time live as an encore along with a toned up version of Slade's 'Coz I Luv You'. Unafraid of being seen for what they are - not what their fans want them to be - their ambitions are perfectly tuned to their abilities which develop at the same pace. And for the first time I'm looking forward to what they come up with next. But it's only now they're beginning to warrant the praise lavished on them in the past.