Mark Eitzel @ Deaf Institute, Manchester, 9 Mar

Mark Eitzel is a genius and geniuses… well, they’re not like you and me are they? They can be difficult. They can dazzle and dismay. He does both in equal measure at The Deaf Institute, taking to the stage with a humble, embarrassed shrug to the applause, a three-piece band striking up as he launches into Blue and Grey Shirt from American Music Club’s California album. Ah, we think, this is the jazzier Eitzel; the Eitzel who riffs Sinatra-like at his well-worn classics. The arrangements are unfamiliar, his approach to the vocal line new and unusual. The same rule applies to What Holds the World Together, one of AMC’s finest four-and-a-half minutes.

At which point, the evening takes the first of its many turns. A member of the audience shouts for Somewhere, another song from California. "Ah that song sucks, I never do that song," Eitzel says, before launching into The Road, a darker track from Hey Mr Ferryman, his latest. When the song is done, the ardent Somewhere fan asks for it again. Eitzel removes two £10 notes from his wallet. Someone else yells, "Keep it, you need the money." Eitzel throws the money into the air and plays a sublime version of Mission Rock Resort from 1996's 60 Watt Silver Lining. Somewhere remains though; an annoyance, an irritation. Back in the day, he tells us, the band hated Somewhere. He plays Nothing and Everything from ...Ferryman; it is beautiful, beautifully performed, beautifully sung. Perhaps everything will be ok after all.

Eitzel lines up his next song, which hasn’t gone down well on any night of the tour, and mentions a barman called Leadpipe who was an asshole but is dead now. He asks for less guitar in the monitor, having just asked for more guitar in the monitor a song or two previous. We get I Love You But You’re Dead from 2012’s Don’t Be A Stranger. He’s right about it not working for some reason, and draws the song to an unruly halt. Someone shouts for An Answer, and Eitzel barks, "Why don’t you wait for it to appear in the setlist?" Then, no doubt feeling sorry for barking, he relents: "Let’s make one person happy, eh?"

Both An Answer and The Last Ten Years are sublime and met with rapturous applause. Come on, Mark, the audience is saying. We’re all friends here. We’re all pleased to see you. Despite his irritation, and hemmed in by the band, he turns in a furious In My Role as Professional Singer and Ham and it's great. "Seeing as you don’t like the new songs, we’ll play an old song," he says. "We love the new songs too," the audience yell. Eitzel’s unhappy face says yeah right. We get Firefly and it's everything you would want it to be. But the night is on a bad track now. He plays Mr Humphries, his sweet and sad hymn to John Inman and leaves the stage.

Will that be it? Will there be an encore? There is. He’s trying to turn it around. Introducing Apology for an Accident, he starts to talk about friends he has lost, operations undergone by family members, troubles his sister has had. The shout for Somewhere goes up again. Eitzel says, "OK. Thanks," and makes to leave the stage, only to be stopped by the band. His shoulders sag. He relents and says something about how he used to be punk. We get a transcendent Jesus’ Hands from AMC’s Everclear album. We get Western Sky – a song that perfectly epitomises the night. 'Time for me to go away / No, I don’t belong in this place,’ he spits at the crowd. And then – and then, his voice lifts and his brow eases and he sings, ‘But I’m not going to ask you why you think the parade has passed us by,’ and it is beautiful and the mood lifts and we are all just here listening to a great singer sing a great song.

He tries to leave again and again the band stop him. 'I’ve said sorry too many times,' he sings. We think it’s a new song: Go Where the Love is. Another smasher. And then it's over and he's done and he walks off without so much as a thanks, and we are left dazzled and dismayed.