After successive generations of brash, "say-it-loud" soul men, Ray Lamontagne's acute shyness is becoming an unlikely selling point. It's so long before he addresses the crowd that a polite "Thank you" receives cheers as if he's announced the second coming. He is seated and bearded, and only a microphone gives any visual indication that he's the "frontman". When someone asks: "How are you, Ray?", he whimpers, "Oh," and mimes a finger cutting across his throat.

The gesture may refer to his normally fabulously throaty voice, which sounds a trifle more hoarse than usual and means that he "sings" in the manner of a lover whispering down a telephone. During a lengthy run of unfamiliar new material, the atmosphere threatens to tip from hallowed to staid.

Thankfully, the exchanges with the audience seem to give the New Hampshire 33-year-old more confidence and fire, and he roars into the excellent new Three More Days like someone spitting out a gargle. Framed by zither, pattering drums and bass, songs from Trouble and Till the Sun Turns Black fuse soul with country, while Burn sounds like a harrowing relative of Dr Hook's Sylvia's Mother.

LaMontagne does not lack the blues, but the shy boy is best at expressing anger. "How come I can't tell the free world from living hell?" he rages. Jolene opens with the startling line, "Cocaine flame in my bloodstream", and elicits whoops of approval, possibly for creating the unlikely image of LaMontagne as a secret party animal. Still, he's more lively than usual. "Last time," mutters one fan, "he didn't speak."

· At Hammersmith Apollo, London W6, tomorrow and Thursday. Box office: 0870 606 3400. Then touring.