Scott Matthews is the kind of guy who lets his guitar do the talking.

Unfortunately, his instrument comes across a bit like the England football team - undeniably skilful, but too aware of its own ability and ultimately not as good as it thinks it is.

Matthews started the night strumming on his own and this set the tone for a pretty average gig.

His firm grasp of melody and obvious talent created initially impressive tunes which then tended to meander towards aimlessness.

He was as nimble on the guitar as a spider doing gymnastics but that was no excuse for flattened-out hooks with no real direction and songs which lasted way, way too long.

As the night progressed, drum, bass, a cello and even a trumpet were added to the mix, but the middling tempo never really changed.

The singer-songwriter from Wolverhampton has been compared to Jeff Buckley, and strives for the same expansive, multi-layered approach to good old fashioned rock 'n' roll.

However, Buckley's posthumous legend has grown over the last few years because of the strength of his extraordinary voice, which Matthews just can't match.

Instead, his nasal growl came across as an adolescent Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam fame.

Some people might think he's charmingly off-key - other, harsher, judges would say he honks like Big Brother 5's Michelle trying to sing Pie Jesu.

At times he attempted to find a groove within a blues style, but whoever heard of a blues band with a cello? It's as if a chapter of the Hell's Angels recruited Stephen Fry.

Admittedly, Matthews sounds great on radio or record, where the roughness of his singing is ironed out and the waywardness of his tunes are given direction.

This probably explains why this relatively unknown singer attracted a large crowd to the Corn Exhange, although I'm sure I wasn't the only one checking their watch after half an hour.

Matthews lacked the musical inventiveness to capture an audience and keep them rooted to the spot.