The music industry has many things in abundance, but twinkling charm is generally in deficit. No wonder seeing King Creosote live is such a pleasure. The bearded singer-songerwriter, born Kenny Anderson, may look as though he has just been either woken (or dug) up, but he could woo the whole world with his word skills. Some of this show is endearingly silly - take his Sheffield site-specific gag about it being so quiet you could hear a knife drop. But when combined with a soaring melody, it is knockout, breath-stealing stuff. "I gave up half of my heart and you gave a half-hearted shrug," he sings on set opener Not One Bit Ashamed, a perfect articulation of the pain of unrequited love.

After a summer when he played nearly every festival going, King Creosote's 90-minute live set, taken mostly from his 2005 albums KC Rules OK and Rocket DIY, is very well honed. Happily, though, the camaraderie between Anderson and his four-piece band ensures that the winning rough edges have not disappeared. Guitarist "The Pictish Trail" botches the handclaps on the a cappella intro to Twin Tub Twin, and dissolves into giggles when Anderson goes for a glass-shattering high note on So Forlorn. To gee things up after a quiet patch, they roll into a high-speed, psychedelic version of Klutz - "'cos it's got some swearing in it". Rarely has the word "twat" sounded so agreeable.

The set's highlights are the jauntiest numbers, such as Bootprints, about the mucky reality of having sex. There is one new song too, At the WAL, which apparently stands for the Women Against Laughter league. It's a classic King Creosote tune: slow to start, with swirly keyboards, then building to a stomping, all-instrument jam. But it is the final track - borrowed from his brother's band, the Aliens - that sums up proceedings. It's called The Happy Song.