James Blunt, 93 Feet East, London

"Have you finished yet?" the former soldier asked sarcastically as a conversation continued to interrupt his most solemn song. One could imagine at this point that James Blunt missed his sergeant major. "Put those lights out, you 'orrible little oiks," he might have barked, as fans raised their glowing mobile phones in ironic reference to the waving of cigarette lighters.

Most people in the East End bar were enraptured, though, and Blunt broke the spell of his most effective track to date. "No Bravery" is a war song about today's confused battlefields, where you are as likely to meet children and old men as tanks and enemy soldiers. It was all the more touching for the 27-year-old having written its lyrics in Kosovo. Before taking on this lairy crowd, Blunt had served in the Household Cavalry. He had guarded the Queen Mother as she lay in state and rose to the rank of captain, becoming one of the first British troops to enter Pristina.

Now, with shaggy locks and guitar, he was aiming to fill the boots of David Gray. His debut album, Back to Bedlam, slipped into the shops in October but, as with Gray, Blunt's label was taking a patient approach to his career. He needed some front-line experience, so he opened a weekly residency at this venue beside Brick Lane.

On first sight, it was hard to imagine this diffident figure as a leader of men. The night was designed as a relaxed, intimate experience, yet Blunt still contrived to make it awkward by addressing only the front row of friendly faces. You had to wonder how he managed in the autumn on a stadium tour in support of Elton John, whose management he shares.

With a wide, white smile between songs, and sometimes during them, Blunt had just enough charisma to carry off his two solo turns, a stern "No Bravery" on keyboard and the yearning "Goodbye My Lover" with guitar. Both were good vehicles for a voice that brought to mind the pure tones of the Seventies troubadour James Taylor. If only his songs were not so timid.

After the verve of "No Bravery", the rest sounded meek, with Captain Blunt sounding lost on the emotional battlefield. Most involving was "You're Beautiful", where Blunt passed an ex-girlfriend in the street and, well, did nothing about it.

He was happier performing with his four-piece band, led by a subtle keyboardist. Their best moments were organ-led, Van Morrison-style lilting melodies. With a more funky backing, Blunt and co could have been the next Toploader, horrible though that sounds.

The urgent rhythms of more recent songs suggested Blunt was rather more interested in the Toploader route than in being another acoustic minstrel. At least that way he won't have to break Ireland first, as Gray did before his success here. Imagine what the Irish would make of a British former tank commander.

12, 19 January (020-7247 3293)