Signed to The Prodigy's label for what was reputedly one of the largest advances of last year, Badly Drawn Boy justifies every penny, though not for the reasons you'd think. His ostensible function is to be Manchester's answer to Beck, but the Boy has more important work to do. Forget the lo-fi winsomeness; his real mission is to preserve the DIY ethic at the junction where it meets eccentricity.

The Boy, aka Damon Gough, has become legendary for his daring shows. That's "daring" as in going on unrehearsed, with unfinished songs, and relying on self-effacing wit to get through yet another self-imposed sticky situation. And so, by the time a flung-together Time of the Season trickles into the downbeat Epitaph, he has asked, "Are you unnerved that I'm a Bruce Springsteen fan?" and entered the crowd at the Queen's Theatre to give away a disco glitter ball. He admits he's shaking and does everything possible to imply that he's just woken up to find himself on a West End stage.

Gough is charming enough to carry a whole show like this, and it's only reluctantly that we broach the music. Not that it isn't fine enough. Uncharacteristically, he's been rehearsing, and it shows in that he no longer forgets lyrics or mistakenly flicks the keyboard's calypso switch in the middle of ballads. With the help of long-suffering backing group Alfie, it actually sounds pretty accomplished. Spurts of hip-hop give acousticky tunes like Once Around the Block an edge, and his tremulous voice pulls you into the lyrics, which address integrity and faith.

Still, Gough wouldn't want us getting any ideas about his competence. Anyone can do competent, but how many can do inspired incompetence?