Simon Warner The Garage, London

Reviews

Watching Simon Warner's 10-piece string, brass, drum, guitar and keyboard ensemble cram on to the Garage's tiny stage, several reflections are prompted. Why it is that orchestras are usually so much less fun to watch than bands? Perhaps because they always seem so determined to project themselves as individuals against the odds; perhaps because their adolescences were so scarred by music lessons that they still think it's clever to smoke. Either way, none of the current pretenders to orchestral pop opulence quite seems for one reason or another - The Divine Comedy's perpetually raised eyebrow, My Life Story's NHS talent bypass - to have got it right yet.

The spectacular advent of Simon Warner derails this train of thought. When this man takes the stage, it stays taken. Whey-faced with make up, reddened eyes suggesting a mild attack of conjunctivitis, the sapling- slender Warner is a splendidly magnetic presence. His features are assembled from a basic gene pool kindly supplied by Julie Christie and Candice Bergen, into which an unscrupulous chemical company has dumped a small measure of post clean-up Ozzy Osbourne. His voice has the beguilingly abrasive rasp of Neil Diamond at his very best, and several years spent studying day and night at the Jacques Brel academy of stagecraft have not been wasted.

Warner's showmanship - underpinned by the impeccable musicianship of his backing troupe - is so polished that it takes a while to appreciate just how good his songs are. He has the precious ability to blow up even the most mundane of everyday occurrences into epic drama: from getting caught fare-dodging in the heroic "Ticket Collector" to falling out with a flatmate over domestic etiquette in the hilarious "Kitchen Tango": "He's eaten my beans ... Blood will spill, have no doubt".

There is knowingness and bitchery here to be sure - Warner is not afraid to give a line like "Tart I may have been, but slut she was" the venom it requires - but it is inside the show, where it should be, not constantly stepping outside to undermine and devalue. A weekly residency at the Cafe De Paris ought to be his next step. For tonight, in the words of Joel Grey's master of ceremonies in Cabaret, "even the orchestra is beautiful".

Simon Warner tours in April. His first album, 'Waiting Rooms', is out on Rough Trade records early next month