Talk about a tease. Or a slow-burning gig. Paul Brady almost sauntered on stage, as if shyly, reluctantly singing a song at someone's wedding then, by the end of the night he turned the theatre into an end-of-century jazz-like rave up. Neat trick that. And this he did, in essence, with just the power of his voice, a set of immaculately structured songs and equally exquisite keyboard and guitar playing.
Sure, he was accompanied by the sinuous Steve Fletcher on keyboards and actually brought on board guests like Richie Buckley and Marianne Faithfull, but solo performances of songs like The Lakes of Ponchetrain and Nobody Knows showed that Brady, unleashed, is more dynamic than a million heavy metal bands. Partly, because he has finally learned to hold back on the vocals, insinuate his way into the hearts of listeners rather than grab them by the throat and holler "listen, this is magnificent music" as he used to do.
Better still, Paul Brady's almost tangible delight in the art of making music on stage spread to the audience, creating the kind of rapport that is too often missing from gigs these days. Even he seemed so swept away by the sexually intoxicating voice of Marianne Faithfull during their duet, Dreams Will Come, that he said after it ended "where am I?"
Likewise, when someone in the audience seemed to think out loud rather than shout "that's great, Paul" the comment not only made the singer smile, but made this reviewer's job redundant.