"Are there any Zimbabweans in the house tonight?" called Oliver Mtukudzi, as he arrived on stage. He almost induced a standing ovation before producing a single note. Later, he tried to introduce a song with the words: "In Zimbabwe, where I come from ... " He got no further: the hall erupted. For the audience, many of whom had roots in Africa, this was a visit from royalty.
The man who has inspired what's known as "Tuku beat", drawing on both western and African influences, from pop to township jive, rumba to traditional Shona rhythms, took the audience by storm last year when he performed with fellow Zimbabwean Thomas Mapfumo in the Barbican's Africa Roots and Shoots festival. Here, despite the charged atmosphere, the band, Black Spirits, began in relaxed fashion with a simple piano intro, over which Mtukudzi laid a few uncomplicated ideas on guitar.
Mary Bell and Mwendakanyi Isabel Chibindi arrived to provide backing vocals along with Erick Kasamba, and the tune gently crescendoed with the aid of pipe organ sounds from the keyboard. Tendai Samson Mataure on drums introduced a smattering of heart-stopping cymbal smashes, and in one moment of vacuum, Mtukudzi stepped forward: "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Are you happy?" The audience's squeals told him he was on the right track.
The singer's first hit in Zimbabwe came more than 20 years ago with a group called the Wagon Wheels and his potent, throaty voice has since earned him the sobriquet of Africa's answer to Otis Redding. One of the evening's more moving moments was when Mtukudzi dedicated a song to a "brother" who had died of Aids in 1996, yet even in this slightly slower number the beat stayed breezy. The first half of the evening was brought to a humorous close by the Spirits departing one by one from the stage, leaving Takundwa Kennedy Neshamba, a conga player with an infectious grin, to round off the piece.
The evening got progressively more boppy, helped by the fact that many in the audience knew the lyrics. At first, enthusiasts filed neatly to the front of the hall to dance in a little cluster to one side. Soon the aisles were bustling, and by the second half, the melee of jiving fans on the stairs was so thick that ushers' attempts to shoo people back into seats went unheeded.
One fan was so anxious to get close to Mtukudzi that she climbed onto the stage and clung to the amplifier as two security guards tried to winkle her away. Moments later she was back, dancing happily behind the great man until forcibly removed. Mtukudzi, who later indulged in his own spot of dancing, to the delight of the audience, was like the Pied Piper - mesmerising, charismatic, the leader of the gang.
