Take that situation: Nick Heyward - live at The Water Rats

© Simon Poulter 2017

I'll get this out of the way from the off: Nick Heyward is infuriatingly ageless. Save for the glasses, he doesn't appear any different from the boyish Haircut 100 frontman of - staggeringly - 36 years ago, adorned in cable-knit sweater with a guitar thrust, circulation-endangeringly under his armpit, plying perfect funk and '60s-infused pop hits like Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl) and Fantastic Day. Almost four decades on, these are now nailed-on classics, as is Love Plus One: even now I can't sit in a business meeting when someone says "So, where do we go from here?" without replying (in my head, Homer Simpson-style) "Is it down to the lake I fear?".

To see Heyward last night looking nothing like his 56 years was itself a welcome journey back in time. Better still was to hear those peerless songs again, performed with a vigour that made them sound as crisp in 2017 as they were when they first appeared between 1981 and 1982.

It's incredible to think, now, that the Heyward-fronted Haircuts only produced the one album, Pelican West, but that perennially sunny trio of successive hits - released between the autumn of 1981 and the following spring - launched the young seven-piece into the kind of success bands starting out today can still only dream of with their debut release, creating Smash Hits cover staples in the process and driving them to the inevitable push to break America.

This, though, ultimately led to Heyward's departure: "We were playing in America and not enjoying it, there was lots of pressure," he explained to the Metro a couple of years ago, as the band was coming back together for a reunion. The highs (an audience with Paul McCartney at his daughters' request) and lows (suicidal feelings...) of new-found fame at such a young age bore heavily on the-then 21-year-old, and he left the band just as it was working on a follow-up to Pelican West. It wasn't long before he produced a solo album, North Of A Miracle, every bit as infectious as the Haircuts' sole release, and rolling out four more perfect pop hits, Whistle Down The Wind, Take That Situation, Blue Hat For A Blue Day and On A Sunday.

But what is less clear is what happened between then - 1983 - and now. True, there have been albums, but nowhere near that early success...or indeed the recognition deserved (even for a record as excellent as From Monday to Sunday, released at the height of Britpop, and containing another British pop gem in Kite, which reached only as high as 44 in the UK Singles Chart in 1993). So, then, news of a crowd-funded new solo album - Woodland Echoes and the steamingly good double-A side, Baby Blue Sky/Mountaintop, all due out next month - has brought about a sudden pique of interest in me, which was richly rewarded last night at the storied Water Rats pub venue in London's Gray's Inn Road.

The show, being recorded for a forthcoming special on the music lovers' channel Vintage TV (tune in at 8pm on 18 July), perfectly framed Heyward's brilliance as a songwriter and a funny, engaging performer, happily delving back into the "heritage" archive of those early Haircut 100 and solo hits, but also showcasing some of the invigorating new material. If the rest of Woodland Echoes is anywhere near as good as the single's two tracks, it's release in mid-August will be a welcome addition to the tail end of summer.

As a primer, on my way out of The Water Rats I bought reissues of North Of A Miracle and last year's Pelican West deluxe edition, which includes extras such as the supreme and often forgotten single Nobody's Fool. A little rockier than the record's bigger hits, it presciently points to Heyward's brand new material, almost 40 years on, which, I hope, will re-cement his credentials as one of the finest pop songwriters Britain has produced post-Beatles.

People talk reverently - quite rightly - about McCartney's unique gift with melody, Squeeze and their 'South London poetry', Ian Dury & The Blockheads' witty funk, Paul Weller's sense of soul and The Smiths' poppy jangle mixed with indie obtuseness. If so, then Nick Heyward deserves re-examination. I've got a feeling, based on last night's taster, that Woodland Echoes will be the catalyst.