Cerys Matthews can virtually surf the wave of affection that greets her as she trips on stage, but despite the cheers, the elfin figure in the white summer frock is beset with nerves. "I've no idea at all why it is," she confides, "but I'm shaking like a leaf tonight."

Matthews is back in action to promote Never Said Goodbye, her second solo album, which eschews the country leanings of her debut, Cockahoop, to return to the quirky guitar pop of her alma mater, Catatonia. It is a patchy record that is elevated tonight by sheer force of personality.

Never Said Goodbye is largely self-penned, and while Matthews is a sharp and sensitive wordsmith, many songs lack the killer melodies and harmonies to set them off. Streets of New York chronicles her recent sojourn in the US but its scratchy, dark dynamics never really get going.

She's better on Open Roads, a misty-eyed paean to lost love, and the edgy folk of Morning Sunshine. Her voice remains fantastic, all rolling vowels and flirty drawl, imparting the sometimes samey new material with clarity and charm.

The set is uneven but exhilarating. Matthews plays nothing from Catatonia's back catalogue, although a taste of their rough-edged alchemy would have been welcome, but treats us to a trippy cover of David Bowie's Soul Love, her keening voice searching out its darkest crannies. She closes with the turgid What Kind of Man, but it's to her credit that she renders even this baroque and bewitching. Matthews is a force of nature: if she recruited a similarly vivacious songwriting partner, she would be unstoppable.

· At Cambridge Folk Festival tonight, (01223 357851) then touring.