In the wake of surly growler Jake Bugg, here’s another young male from Nottingham looking to make some waves, though Ady Suleiman has a much sunnier disposition and wardrobe. Taking to the stage in a near-Hawaiian shirt and dungarees worn at half-mast, Suleiman resembles Turtle from Entourage after he got hot, radiating the sleepy charm of a beach-bum surfer.
The twentysomething’s NutriBullet mix of soul, pop and reggae has won admirers such as Gilles Peterson, but on a chilly Glasgow night, it’s a compact but impassioned crowd that turns out. Tracks from Suleiman’s brace of EPs to date are buffed up to a Jamiroquai-level polish by a seriously slick six-piece backing band, although their assured efforts highlight the infectiousness of the grooves at the risk of rendering them rather frictionless.
Thankfully, there’s a spikiness to Suleiman’s writing and singing that punctures the piña colada sheen. He’s more Lily Allen than Finley Quaye, obsessed with poring over the clawmarks of relationship realpolitik rather than just trafficking in bland, gap-year poptimism. The Latin-influenced What’s the Score, an early highlight, paints him as a white knight, soulfully fretting over an ambiguous relationship status. Everywhere else, there’s a stirring lyrical frankness.
Suleiman apologises in advance for the F-bombs in the bouncy I Remember but there’s still an illicit charge to hearing him wistfully reminisce about “when we were fucking” in the chorus. (Later, on the booty call lament Ain’t the Beep, another implied swear is wittily obscured by an incongruous keyboard sound effect.) “You guys have been wicked,” he says, wrapping up a short 10-song set that has delivered everything from sultry babymaking music to harder-edged funk. It’s a performance full of promise, and Suleiman’s fluid voice, eye for drama and ear for a hook bodes well for his debut album, which must surely be timed for a summer release.
• At The Deaf Institute, Manchester, on 8 March. Box office: 0871-220 0260. Then touring.
