Ghostpoet @ The Deaf Institute, Manchester, 19 October

If nothing else, you have to give Ghostpoet – real name Obaro Ejimiwe -– his due for not swaying in the face of popular pressure. His lyrical content is totally idiosyncratic, with both of his album titles hinting at the eccentric nature of his writing (the Mercury-nominated Peanut Butter Blues and Melancholy Jam was followed up last May by Some Say I So I Say Light). Even more commendable is his decision, despite both records being deeply rooted in electronic instrumentation, to perform live with a full band, rather than hiding being laptops and circuitry.

Tonight's show has been downgraded, capacity-wise, from Academy 3, but these more intimate confines are ultimately a neater match; the lackadaisical manner of Ghostpoet's delivery is about as informal as it gets, and serves as proof that comparisons with Roots Manuva are anything but lazy. The most pleasing aspect of the performance tonight is that the tangible atmosphere summoned up on record is largely relayed faithfully; like Mike Skinner, Ejimiwe has proved himself adept at evoking visions of the same kind of late-night, inner-city ambience summoned up on the likes of Original Pirate Material.

Not everything here truly suits the live environment – Cold Win's off-kilter delivery stutters, as does the simmering monotony of Meltdown – but when things come together, the results are special. Liiines is quietly anthemic, while the erratic buzz of Them Waters, with its refrain of “send me down the Thames”, gathers intensity at impressive pace. There are misses to go with the hits, sure, but it's genuinely thrilling to hear an artist as genuine in his artistic experimentation as Ghostpoet. [Joe Goggins]