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Hall & Oates at Bluesfest O2 Arena, London: Silencing the naysayers

“We haven't played in a big room like this for a long time, so it's really good to be here,” mutters Daryl Hall, one half of Hall & Oates, the third bestselling double act of all time.

The 71-year-old Hall, who resembles a rangy, ageing tom cat (think Choo-Choo in Top Cat, but in black leather jacket) does most of the talking (or muttering), while his diminutive, moustachioed partner (they’re the Starsky and Hutch of pop), John Oates, specialises in gnarly blues guitar licks.

It’s a stirring performance from a blue-eyed act that – as recently as the last decade - were being sneered at by rock critics as yuppie, “yacht rockers”, but more on the Eighties playboys later.

The “support” act at this impressively staged Bluesfest (which has also featured Steely Dan and the Doobie Brothers) is inveterate crowd-pleaser Chris Isaak. The 61-year-old Elvis lookalike channels the likes of the Grand Ole Opry, rock’n’roll and, most of all, Roy Orbison, in his perky, generous 18-song set, which is packed into little over an hour. Isaak, backed by his band of 32 years, delivers two Orbison covers, a splash of Johnny Cash (“Ring of Fire”) and James Brown’s “I’ll Go Crazy”.

The trim Californian claims he’s very “thankful” that we've come out to see his music as otherwise he wouldn't be able to wear his excessively sparkly shirt. Isaac is a droll showman but he isn’t scared to unleash a dash of nihilism; witness menacing and unsettling hits “Blue Hotel” and the magnificent “Wicked Game”, on which he claims “Nobody loves no one”.

Philadelphia’s Hall and Oates are little more po-faced, but no less entertaining, armed as they are with a legion of huge hits. They kick off with two tracks from 1982’s mega-selling H20, “Family Man” and “Maneater” (with its rather dubious lyric, “The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar”), before a rousing performance of the heinously catchy “Out of Touch” from 1984’s Big Bam Boom.

There are some technical issues and feedback during their first three numbers, but a willing and appreciative crowd bellow the choruses through the hiccups and assist an occasionally croaky Hall.

Highlights in the 14-song set are 1973’s exquisite “She's Gone” (which contains the immortal line “I'd pay the Devil to replace her”) and “I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do)”, which morphs into 12-minute jam on which saxophonist Charles “Mr Casual” DeChant (who sports a Gandalf-style beard that nearly reaches his belly) takes centre stage for long periods.

It’s hugely indulgent but this is a blue festival after all and it demonstrates just how accomplished Hall and Oates are as musicians. As they always were. Their naysayers have been silenced tonight, and it’s time to go for that...