Jamie Lidell @ The Liquid Room, 26 Apr

Mara Carlyle (***) is a pixie; her soft, clean vocals and coquettish banter are both demure and relaxing. She should perform at intimate oak-paneled tea houses, not as the ‘special guest’ for Jamie Lidell. The crowd plays along, humming when she asks, but it’s forced. Contrast can be effective, eliciting excitement and forging connection or contemplation, but this pairing feels artificial. Carlyle does a gorgeous, down-tempo cover of Lidell’s Game for Fools, but tonight the focus is on Jim, Lidell’s uber-funky, homage-paying album. The crowd waits patiently, enjoying her set, but feeling the itch in their loafers.

Lidell takes the stage just after his band, a ragtag group looking all at once disheveled and slick. He slides onstage in shiny purple Vans, an ill-fitting blazer and tuxedo trousers. Jim might have received mixed reviews from critics thus far, but the general consensus is that Lidell truly shines as a live performer. His neo-soul is reminiscent of legends: Marvin, Al and Stevie. But it’s his explosive, animated onstage energy that makes the music so contagious. The passive, humming audience of 10 minutes ago has transformed into a two-steppin’ mass. It’s a fast set, 45 minutes, an hour? Who knows? I’m lost, hypnotized by the bouncing afro and guitar-kicks, the make-shift horn and the laptop mash-up. Sweat drips from noses as the set ends, but we all stand, waiting for more.