LOOSE and edgy is how John Bramwell jokingly described his solo set, and he was half right.

Bramwell is the front man and songwriter from I Am Kloot, the critics favourite for their thoughtful, gritty yet poetic stock. With his distinctive grey barnet, he is a hugely likeable performer, good company and down to earth. In short one of us. Hard to imagine him in Cuban heels aloof as a megastar.

This solo tour sees him going back to his roots, motorway jams and hawking CDs, girlfriend and dog in tow. While Norwich was apparently bemused, York was obviously amused by Bramwell’s antics.

Clearly enjoying the experience, the looseness was endearing without ever lurching into sloppy, but his frequent allusions to the interval suggested that this was after all, just one more for the road. A shame too that he didn’t choose to try any new songs. All the spoken interludes meant the concert never really got beyond third gear. It had the air of an artist coasting.

After 25 years, Bramwell has minted a batch of songs which include half a dozen modern-day classics - the kind of elemental, earthy material that Billy Bragg once wrote further south. The weather and TV screens loom large in Bramwell’s writing; yet his Morning Rain was unusually simple, as direct as a Mancunian earful.

Northern Skies is one of the most beautiful tunes, and you would have to listen to many albums indeed to find something of the calibre of At The Sea.

His is the alleluia chorus of shopping centres and drinking dens, and there are few concessions for the mainstream to grab and all the better for it, save the sing-along chorus of Let Them All In, left for the end.