YORK Barbican dropped to darkness as a dramatic spoken introduction with haunting lighting showed us this wasn’t a set-list and singalong;  this was a piece of theatre.

The stage was sparse: just two keyboards operated by two faceless men in darkness (John Garden and Shaun McGhee) amid other gadgetry.

Would this be a night of clinical, soulless electronica in a world of acoustic live lounges?

From the first note, Alosn Moyet’s unique presence filled the 1,500-seater arena. In between songs, she is honest, endearing, perceptive and self-effacing. Her heart is on her sleeve and in every song.

She stands an outsider but everything that makes her different makes her spellbinding. Within minutes I forgot where I was and was engrossed in the performance.

Old friend Only You was obviously met with a warm welcome but it stood out as light froth compared to her subsequent work, such has been the evolution and revolution in her song-writing and performance.

The Man In The Wings illustrated the connection a song can make as goosebumps covered 3,000 arms.

With stunning versions of All Cried Out, Love Resurrection and Don’t Go, she kept the nostalgia-hungry happy but Moyet isn’t just another 1980s' performer.

She has a timeless, unique, powerful voice relevant to any decade she chooses to sing in where people respect individuality, passion and boundless performances. Moyet IS different.

She may be an “other” but diamonds are rare finds. I have never seen such drama in the Barbican. This was soulful electronica. Nights like this remind me why I love music.