Sam Fender @ Royal Highland Showgrounds, Edinburgh, 22 Aug

In a sea of Newcastle United shirts and people getting rained on by beer cup towers, we wait impatiently for Sam Fender’s return to Scottish soil. Opening with Angel in Lothian is the first of several gestures Fender makes to tell us how much it means to be back in his second home, or as he calls it “the best country in the British Isles.”

Beer cups decorate the grass under an unsurprising grey sky on night one of this year's Edinburgh Summer Sessions gig series, but the once-gloomy landscape quickly glistens in beaming colour upon Fender’s arrival. It isn't a Sam Fender concert without severe whiplash between pop-rock bangers and gut-wrenching songs of working-class hardships and political struggles. Angel in Lothian segues immediately into Spice, submerging us in a haze of harsh orange lights with scorching flames. The energy peak is the infectious punk-rock Howdon Aldi Death Queue, a rapid-fire anti-Tory screamer during which we accept Fender’s challenge of rivalling Manchester’s moshing. Conned into thinking it ends about four times, it kicks back into frantic, full-pelt drums and a psychedelic backdrop.

The vibe switch to the achingly painful Spit of You is about as dramatic as it can get, which Fender dedicates to long-time mate and fellow face in the crowd Lewis Capaldi. When support act Olivia Dean returns for Rein Me In, the buzz in the crowd soars. After a sparkling soul-pop set earlier, the pair make the stage their own with voices that blend seamlessly. Noticing the ecstatic reaction after the track was skipped on the tour's Manchester date, Fender explains its return – “we've got to give the people what they want!”

From shredding during Crumbling Empire, to choosing an overjoyed fan to play guitar on The Borders, it isn’t hard to understand why Fender has become a household name. Despite only being released six months ago, the deafening chants to the title track from new album People Watching indicate an instant classic. With lyrics about working-class battles and buried emotions that knock the wind out of you, mass singalongs to People Watching or Seventeen Going Under make crushing burdens feel lighter for a few minutes.

Tiny mishaps are brushed off with light banter, whether Fender jokes about a disappearing capo or turns a bum note on The Dying Light into a piano jig. After joking about the stupidity of encores (“You know I’m coming back on!”), he very quickly disappears for one. While glistening confetti snows down and fans wave goodbye on their loved ones’ shoulders, he grins that even after recent struggles with his voice, “I think I’ve still got it, huh?” For the 20,000 people shouting every word of Hypersonic Missiles back to him, there's no doubt.