Sunday's blustery weather has, Jill Scott tells us, "come up in my throat". But does this stop her from panting lasciviously through Crown Royal? Making every note of My Love throb with anguish, petulance, jealousy and pride? Transforming He Loves Me, written for the man who is now her ex-husband, into a jaw-dropping audition piece for the Royal Opera? If this is Scott below par, it is a wonder her venues stay intact when she is on top form.
It is tempting to dismiss the repeated references to her throat as false modesty, only Scott radiates the very opposite: a self-assurance so absolute that it works on her audience like an elixir. This is a long gig, over two hours, but every moment is exhilarating, because Scott knows she has talent and is not shy about demonstrating it. Backed by a soul-funk outfit who, with admirable restraint, unobtrusively follow every twist of her mood, she struts and croons, raps and preaches, whispers and roars.
Her personality range is wider still, by turns coy, sultry, comic, forthright and compassionate. Just as she brings a poet's sensibility to her songwriting, she brings an actor's physicality to her performance, miming lyrics with wonderful humour. What is striking, however, is how this layer of artistry highlights Scott's essential honesty. This is a woman as ready to confess to the frustrations of celibacy as she is to luxuriate in passion and celebrate the little domestic joys that love brings. Her willingness to put her own life under the microscope creates a remarkable intimacy: when she chats to the audience, to tell us about her recent divorce or to admonish black men for their irresponsible approach to relationships, it is with a relaxed affection that makes us feel like her friends. It is a feeling of privilege - rare and wonderful.
· Further performance tonight. Box office: 0870 771 2000.
