Live Review: Jacob Collier

The limitless musical virtuosity of Jacob Collier has been widely reported. A modern saviour of jazz, a beaming multi-instrumentalist and two-time Grammy winner he might be, but the man that graces the Howler stage tonight is warm and gracious. A vast sea of instruments is scattered across the stage and damn straight he uses all of them.

With most of his original work, the voice plays a vital role in Collier's ability to communicate emotion and joy through his music, and tonight he stretches these peaks and valleys even more so than on record. "How many of you are musicians here tonight?" he asks a few songs in, with well over half the audience raising their hands. The first hand-supplied drum beats of Down The Line from Collier's debut 2016 LP In My Room create an infinite feedback loop between performer and audience. Using this crowd-reactive technique is also a canny way to work around the fact that Collier is the only guy on stage. This song slowly morphs through euphoric B sections into lackadaisical marching drums and a freewheeling jazzy piano solo to rapturous applause.

"Is it ok if I play a funky song?" Collier inquires and a more emphatic "YES" just wouldn't be possible. Collier then splits the crowd into two sections for a sing-off that slowly transforms into Saviour. It could sound like a The Dude-era Quincy Jones deep cut, syphoned through J Dilla's MPC and trickled over Bobby McFerrin's vocal cords. The song's groove is infectious, which sees the whole room pulsing. These monolithic songs Collier performs, much like on record, are morphed, time-stretched, diverted and recalibrated with scalpel-like precision while somehow keeping a freeform joyous energy.

Tipping the crowd to peak at certain points, his Stevie Wonder cover You And I has Collier crooning, whispering and pleading, and the room's so silent we can hear empty schooner glasses rattling across the room. We're then treated to the most bizarre, ramped-up version of George Gershwin's Fascinating Rhythm ever, which incorporates coalescing and multi-stacked vocal parts, a tiny handheld keyboard solo, duelling audience singalongs and a reverb-soaked coda that leaves us all dazed, confused and thoroughly entertained.

Returning for a single song encore, Collier takes time out for a gratuitous display of appreciation and a ten-plus minute cover of The Beatles fan's favourite song, Blackbird. Just how a performer can repeat the lyrics "singing in the dead of night" for minutes on end and keep us wailing, sweating and enthralled is a true testament to Collier's skill and the humanity he brings to his performance.

The musicians in the audience leave feeling inferior, knowing that they have plenty of practice ahead if they even want to come close to the virtuosity on display this evening. This is probably the last time we'll see Collier in a venue this small.