Alexander O'Neal

ALONG with the likes of Luther Vandross and Teddy Pendergrass, Alexander O'Neal defined the Loverman image of Eighties soul music. It's an image based on showman seduction techniques (the shared experiences of James Brown, Barry White and Prince, an old colleague of O'Neal's), with lots of crotch self-caressing and ridiculous pelvic thrusts thrown in for good measure.

While O'Neal managed to whip lip a relatively swirling funky storm on Saturday evening, the overall impression was that of a man and his music somewhat out of date and well on the way to self-caricature. When the hefty soul singer wasn't swinging, he became the mellow, blinds drawn, late-night soul sophisticate, a role far better suited to his voice. It was with ballads such as If You Were Here Tonight, A Broken Heart Can Mend - two of his hits from the mid-Eighties - and a new song called Our Love that O'Neal showed exactly where he got his hot reputation from.