There was more to this than meets the eye, but before we get to Brian Kennedy we just have to mention support act Juliet Turner. Showing an increasing confidence in her stage presence and more awareness in her growing popularity, Turner's material might be as heavily accented and stylised as her voice, but its air of fractiousness, cynicism and eventual acceptance is occasionally spine-tingling. Definitely one to watch . . .

Unlike her compatriot, Brian Kennedy, who - if he's not too careful - could end up with a fan base of Full Monty acolytes. Kennedy is a superb vocalist (the man could read a phone book backwards and still melt the hearts of ice maidens nationwide) and his material is full of melody, hooklines and the requisite amount of user-friendliness. His failing live is that he walks several thin lines between greatness, campness and smugness, each of them sharp enough divisions that threaten to stalk him. He's in danger of attracting the wrong sort of fan-base for a singer who seems to want to be a credible musician.

Backed by effective but innocuous-looking musicians, Brian Kennedy is style incarnate: smart suits, tight haircut and a boyish, tea-sipping smile that augers well for his crossover success, if not his own personal, epiphany-fuelled journey.