John Grant has all the makings of a major cult hero. He comes from Denver, studied in Germany, and manages to blend echoes of anything from classical piano to a dash of Tom Waits and a personal take on alt.country into his melodic, powerful and often exquisitely gloomy songs. Sitting at a grand piano he thanked the audience for not going to see Beck (playing down the road at the Apollo), and launched into a bravely original set that never quite matched his own recordings.

Grant started out with a fine, moody piano solo that eventually developed into Little Pink House, one of the thoughtful, sturdy songs of soul-searching and parting from the Czars' last album, Goodbye. He has a strong baritone voice, and could clearly have succeeded well by simply accompanying himself. But that's not his style, for in came electric guitar, bass and drums, along with a more appropriate mournful trumpet, to wrest the song away from his piano.

For the second song he changed direction again, leaving the piano to sing from the front of the stage, swigging from a water bottle and wandering around during the instrumental breaks as if he were rehearsing in a home studio rather than appearing before an audience. A lanky, bearded figure, sporting a battered blue cap, he seemed far too laid-back to be the author of his often painfully introspective songs, and far too good a pianist to let some of those songs get so battered by unnecessary electronic effects or insensitive percussion.

He clearly likes variety in his melancholia (there was even a song in German), but the best sections were those when he was backed either by his own piano, or by his guitarist. The band did work together well on the (of course) tragic and sturdy Paint the Moon and Bright Black Eyes, but there was only one Czar on stage who really mattered.