Foo Fighters @ Murrayfield, Edinburgh, 8 September

“We might do some stupid shit now and again," Dave Grohl confesses of that onstage tumble in Gothenburg, the broken leg and subsequent three month delay it took his Foo Fighters to get here, "but we always fuckin' come back.” Beyond their shotgun Barrowlands debut in 95 or that surprise SECC support slot with The Prodigy a few years later, Murrayfield 2015 is another night sure to go down as an anomalous treat in the tour diary.

Wearing the stadium rock clichés like Paul Stanley in his pomp (with a knowing wink) from the get-go, Grohl screams the opening curtain down with All My Life, accelerating up the catwalk on his fully customised perch – a cross between some lost piece of Doctor Who memorabilia and a guitar nut’s take on the Iron Throne. Even with his right leg raised in plaster, the charismatic talisman of everyman rock leans in, engages the masses and headbangs through the next 150 minutes, tossing out direct hits – Times Like These, Learn To Fly, Big Me – like confetti going spare.

They don’t always detonate as intended; even with extra time for this crowd to adjust to latest opus Sonic Highways – somehow their most ambitious but procedural studio document to date – Something From Nothing and Congregation arrive with all the bombast we’ve come to expect of the post-millennial Foos, yet they struggle to match the alternate joy and profundity of immortal treasures like This Is A Call or My Hero. Luckily there's room on the setlist for all of it tonight.

Entirely aware of their surroundings – whether evinced by Chris Shiflett’s lick of In A Big Country, or Pat Smear’s rapturously received introduction to the band’s debut cover of Vaselines standard Molly’s Lips (made famous on Nirvana’s Incesticide) – Grohl completes the handshake with praise for the numerous Scots in their long-serving road crew. Ending the night on Everlong, still a deeply resonant calling card, it's a hard heart that can't be won by this kind of unwavering conviction.