In the liner notes to his latest album, Human, Nitin Sawhney says: "To be honest, I don't know what to believe any more." It's not the most inspiring of revelations, but it may shed light on why an artist with such a dizzying array of influences should make such uncommitted-sounding music.

Sawhney and his band produced a slick show featuring some nice instrumental work and several OK songs. Most of the audience gave an enthusiastic response, but anybody looking for a flicker of passion would have gone home disappointed. Sat behind his keyboard, Sawhney was a curiously charisma-less figure, a fact that wouldn't have mattered had he simply radiated a bit of genuine human warmth. But there was nothing forthcoming except brief song introductions (virtually every one featuring a plug for the new album) and the calling out of vocalists' names as they trooped on and off the stage. Sawhney may claim that he is a spiritually inclined artist asking big questions about what it means to be human, but tonight he seemed like nothing more than a careerist pop star with a record to promote.

Musically, the show was a mixed bag. The new album features more R&B-flavoured material than before, and these songs pattered along gracefully under the guidance of a funky drummer. There were the usual stylistic collisions - Asian voices wailing over flamenco guitar, propulsive tabla beats underpinning air-brushed trip-hop grooves.

Sawhney is something of an audiophile; a lustrous sheen enveloped the music, and many of the vocals were treated to some kind of digital echo effect. The most gripping moments came during the instrumental tracks where the tabla joined with Sawnhey's keyboard gymnastics to create some stirring crescendos.

Suddenly, after an hour and a quarter, it all came to a non-climactic climax. "You've been a great audience," Sawhney announced calmly, then vanished from the stage as briskly and professionally as he'd occupied it.