Reviews

It is used to describe someone who, while not totally dislikeable, can occasionally be extremely objectionable. And at the Apollo, he was.

He maintained a surly refusal to speak throughout the night, only leaping into vituperative life when someone shouted something incredibly offensive like "Come on, Ryan!" 

A mad rant at the crowd followed, notable for the great phrase "I don't want your psychic negativity" and the even better "asshole karma." I don't really know what "asshole karma" referred to - perhaps it was an insult, perhaps it was the name of the support band.

Anyway, its fearsomeness was fatally diluted by the green tea cosy he was wearing on his head. It was Californian nonsense on a cold night in Ardwick.

But silly, self-indulgent sulkiness apart, it was a musically faultless performance from a man whose been involved in a fair few shambolic shows - witness last year's appearance at the Bridgewater Hall.

But this is a cleaned-up Ryan, and while that’s obviously not cheered him up, it did produce an impressive show. The two part set drew songs from right across his huge output. It was great song after great song and even the weaker material was kept afloat by the shimmering arrangements and playing of the Cardinals.

It was studied and precise, but never lacking in warmth or soul. There was the occasional lapse into that mid-paced, po-faced Americana-muzak stuff but really, it was hard to pick holes in this show.

The second half was particularly impressive. Perhaps feeling happier after his little hissy fit, Adams and the band relaxed into the groove, with the new material souding particularly strong.

Musically satisfying then, but not a night to set the heart on fire. It anything it was a case of Ryan Adams in ‘too sober’ shock. I was looking for a phrase to sum up that strange atmosphere at a gig when the artist takes it upon himself to slag off his fans. Here's one - asshole karma.