Their first Belfast appearance, headlining the Belsonic festival in the austere surroundings of Custom House Square, has all the trimmings you'd expect.

There are balloons, streamers, lasers, devotees on either side of the stage dressed up in strange costumes and dancing.

It all looks great on paper — and for fans there was an air of giddy excitement before, during and after the show — but for those not quite convinced of the Flaming Lips' greatness this wasn't the concert to convert them.

Yep, all the hits were there and the band blasted out She Don't Use Jelly, Do You Realize?? and Race for the Prize with gusto.

Frontman Wayne Coyne encouraged the crowd between songs, willing them to shout, cheer and put a charge into a cold August evening.

Despite his best efforts, and the audiences, the upbeat mood didn't hit euphoric heights.

A swirling wind, which can turn even the greatest of outdoor PAs muddy as it plays havok with the sound, didn't help matters.

And it ensured all the balloons and confetti blew out of the arena.

I'm fully aware that the problem may be that I don't 'get it', and that if I did 'get it' the evening would be a lot more enjoyable.

Maybe I'm putting too much emphasis on the weather and the intangible qualities of - had it been dusk on a balmy summer's day I might have been more convinced.

But, on the basis of the band's music, which is a rainbow of indie styles cobbled together for a set of hugely inconsistent songs, there's little to latch on to.

Like all the great religions, The Flaming Lips rely quite a lot on faith.

It can blind you to their flaws and allow you to get caught up in the wave of devotion rippling throughout the crowd.

This isn't to say it wasn't a good concert, in fantastic surroundings, that had a few real high points.

But, when it comes to The Flaming Lips, I'm not a believer.