AFEW numbers into his Symphonica tour appearance at the arena on Wednesday night, and George Michael says: “Newcastle, I think you’re the loudest venue yet.”

Yeah, I bet he says that to all the audiences.

If that sounded a tad insincere, it was probably the truth because this crowd loved him unreservedly, unequivocally, and he repaid their devotion with a two-and-abit- hour performance that was slick and smooth but full of passion too.

This was no cynical runthrough of the favourites from his extensive back catalogue. Yes, there were rousing versions of Freedom and I’m Your Man in the finale, and Father Figure and Cowboys and Angels during the more introspective first half, but he pushed himself with a pumped-up rendering of Rihanna’s Russian Roulette and a less successful slowing down of New Order’s True Faith.

It was more evidence of his ability to take other people’s songs and make them say something different. It was a measure of his confidence that he could dust-off his version of a seminal number by one of Tyneside favourite sons. Sting’s Roxanne was one of the highlights.

He looked damn good for his 49 years. Despite nearly dying of pneumonia (which forced the cancellation of this world tour last year and the after-effects of which have led to the cancellation of the Australian leg this year owing to “major anxiety”), this was still Gorgeous George.

Whatever is going on in that narcissistic, selfabsorbed head of his at the moment, it didn’t show. He was the consummate showman.

He’s still your man.