It's been ten years since Maximo Park released A Certain Trigger, their seminal debut. Arguably a defining record of the mid-'00s indie boom, a lot has changed since Paul Smith and co scissor-kicked their way on the pages of NME. Many of their contemporaries have split up or faded in to obscurity, whilst others have been catapulted in to mega-stardom. Maximo Park on the other hand, have done none of those things. Instead they've tread comfortable waters, releasing a steady stream of albums, toured regularly and been celebrated by an ardent yet modest by comparison fan-base.

Tonight the focus is on their debut though, the album that made many of us here at the Albert Hall fall in love with the band, and the album which we're here to see in its entirety. The first half of the evening however, is dedicated to singles and rarities, the band careering through 'Girls Who Play Guitars' and 'The National Health', before a rare outing of early B-side 'A19' gets the pulses of die-hard fans racing. As does similar B-side 'A Year of Doubt', but it's 'Our Velocity' that gets the loudest reaction of the evening; the crowd's roar drowning out everything.

From our position behind, above and to the right of the stage, Smith's clearly overwhelmed by such a response, and thriving off it. Performing some impressively acrobatic dance moves that defy his skinny jeans, he bounces from band member to band member with gleeful abandon. Though there's little in the way of crowd interaction, it's more than made up for with the conviction they lavish on tracks that must have been played hundreds of times before.

In what's “possibly the longest encore ever”, over half the set in fact, Maximo Park begin the second part of the evening with 'Signal and Sign'. It's clear that these songs mean as much to the band as they do the crowd and it's obvious they enjoying playing some of these songs for the first time in a while. 'Apply Some Pressure' goes down predictably well, as does 'Going Missing', the track which spawned the aforementioned B-sides. Personal highlights come in the form of 'The Coast Is Always Changing' and 'Acrobat', though it seems the latter hasn't been played in a while, given Smith's, possibly ironic, reliance on a lyric book.

Though it's been over ten years since these tracks were written, they still resonate as strongly as ever. Some even more so. And while Maximo Park haven't reached the same kind of dizzying heights as early contemporaries such as Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian, their fans have stuck by them for a decade, something which stands as a testament to their longevity and something that makes tonight feel like a celebration of their relationship with their fans, as much as of that crucial first album.

In 2005, the North East’s Maximo Park were one of indie-rock’s brightest stars: sharp, quirky and clever, their debut was bulging with sprightly, spiky pop songs that scissor-kicked their way into your brain. But of course there was a glass ceiling and the band never seemed able to escape and grow past that double-edged slot: ‘second or third from top’ or ‘second stage headliner’.

Then came the lacklustre follow-up, Our Earthly Pleasures, a top-heavy affair that after a promising opening salvo lacked bite and stamina. Similarly 2009’s Quicken the Heart was like a wade through proverbial boredom. Afterwards vocalist Paul Smith seemed more interested in DJing in Newcastle clubs wearing a variety of different hats and releasing a solo album, which wasn’t a failure by any means but that certainly fitted a pattern of diminishing returns. But now the Park return with angstily titled album The National Health. Smith still has ants in his pants and an impressive collection of trilbies, but the real question is: have his band rediscovered their teeth?

In theory the answer is yes. Life and jaunt seems to spill out of their fourth album’s every orifice. Sure opener, ‘When I Was Wild’, a short piano-led lament where Smith mourns the carefree times of yore, hints at a different, more mature outlook, but how they lie.

A second later, as titular track ‘The National Health’ bursts into life, we’re back to the good days, geeky little keyboard riffs circling around angular guitars, all galloping and falling over each other to get ahead, Smith snarling: “The daily grind, the moral wealth, the portrait of the national health.” It’s great, and exudes a buzziness that we haven’t heard from Maximo in years.

Happily, it’s something that reoccurs again and again, as song after song reminds us about what made this band so truly aces in the first place. By now you’ll have heard single ‘Hips and Lips’, three and half minutes of deft foreplay which the band put out as first single. A sexual little bugger that dips and throbs breaking into occasional frenzied climaxes, Smith’s vocals shift between murmurs and howls. ‘Banlieue’ is beefy and tense, ‘Write This Down’ jerky and fizzy. ‘Until the World Would Open’ is classic Maximo, awkward and itchy, while ‘This Is What Becomes Of the Brokenhearted’ has a rather lovely, “the biggest mistake of all, I didn’t return your call” lyric.

It almost seems pathetically pedantic then to try and pick holes in what is evidently a strong album. Without a doubt The National Health is Maximo’s most sparkling collection of tunes since their debut, but at the same time there’s nothing here that is remotely unexpected. Maximo Park have simply gone from sounding like a shit Maximo Park to an awesome Maximo Park again. While that’s probably good enough for now – like a pet dog you’ve grown up with, you will always love the familiarity - but you can’t help wondering that if Maximo Park get the chance to make the same album again, we’ll be as forgiving the fifth time round.