Often, evenings with evergreen songwriting legends such as Joan Armatrading are sedate affairs with note-perfect renditions of classics delivered to waves of reverence. Nobody seems to have told Armatrading.
Within minutes, the singer and her band have made an absolute mess of a tune, finally having to abandon it altogether: she snaps a guitar string; the sound system starts cutting out and the saxophone is inaudible.
Armatrading sighs, surveys the chuckling audience and joins in the laughter. "It's one of those nights," she admits. "Do you want your money back?" Nobody asks for a refund and, in fact, the semi-shambolic nature of much of the proceedings brings a welcome dose of humanity and fun.
Legendary status or not, it is a long time since Armatrading had a hit. She is travelling with a two-musician band, who flit between drums, saxophone, flute, drum machines and keyboards. They are accomplished players who do a passable impersonation of a bigger ensemble. More significantly, Gary Foot and Spencer Cousins add further bonhomie to the loose, relaxed feel. At one point, drummer/saxophonist Foot goes to hang up his jacket, can't find anywhere to put it, and, with a mischievous grin, simply throws it to the floor.
Armatrading is promoting her new album. "Does anybody know the title?" she asks. There is a tiny shout of "Lovers Speak". "Three people!" she sighs, with no pretence over which songs people want to hear and making a valiant effort to change the situation.
In the Times is harrowing and moving, but Love Bug embarrassingly trite. Mostly, the new songs sound very 1980s. Her older catalogue inspired the likes of Patti Smith and Tracy Chapman, and songs from before 1982 sound more current than anything she has done since.
The Weakness in Me (about the choice between relationship security and excitement) is beautiful, Love and Affection an immaculate construction of passion and detail. Armatrading delights her fans with Down to Zero and Me, Myself, I, but steals her own show with 1977's extraordinary Willow.
As the audience sing the chorus, Armatrading stands back, surveying her flock as they sing beautifully and movingly without, surprisingly, a single cough, croak, collapsing chair or bum note.
· At the Royal Albert Hall, London SW7, tonight (020-7589 8212). Then touring.
