Richard Thompson at the Royal Festival Hall

The Richard Thompson Band

Royal Festival Hall, 18 January 2011

"I like kittens and little babies. Can't you see that's the kind of guy I am?" Richard Thompson sings at the start of the show. It's the opening line of The Money Shuffle, the first song on his excellent new album Dream Attic (which he amusingly dedicates to the bankers of the world) but somehow it seems the truth, because all through this three hour show Thompson comes across as a truly nice guy: funny, sweet and self-deprecating, not one of the greatest guitarists in the world today and a true British music legend, which he most definitely is.

He tells us that he's glad to be back at the Royal Festival Hall "yet again!", and he isn't joking, not only is this the first of two shows here but last year he curated its Meltdown Festival and has played here countless times over the years, starting way back in the late 60s while in Fairport Convention. And funnily enough just before the show starts I'm reading a book about Nick Drake and it not only mentions Thompson's relationship with Drake (Richard played on two of Nick's three albums) but talks in detail about the Royal Festival Hall and the night Nick Drake supported Fairport Convention (which Richard was still in at the time) there. Suddenly the place appears even more beautifully historic and, despite not having the greatest seats this time, seems to the perfect place to see Mr Thompson in concert for the first time.

I have seen Richard play live once but only as a guest to Elvis Costello last year, this would be my first experience of a Thompson concert in full. First I discover that he likes to put on a long, value-for-money show, because there's no support and Thompson, sporting that famous black beret of his and a rather hip patterned scarf tied around his neck, walks on the stage promptly at 7.30pm. After the first song he also rather kindly tells us just how the show will work: the first half is to be dedicated to Dream Attic, he explains, and then there will be a short intermission and the second part will be a greatest hits show, "with a small h" he laughs. And that's exactly how it works and rather well too, most likely because Dream Attic is such a good album. He tells us that the energetic and bouncy Big Sun Falling In The River is inspired by London, specifically the bridge not far from the Royal Festival Hall (I presume he refers to Waterloo Bridge but Hungerford Bridge is also nearby), which feels nice. There's also great versions of the eastern-flavoured Sidney Wells and the rocking Bad Again, but things start to drag with a 10 minute version of slower song, Crimescene. One thing I must say though, his band are astonishingly good, particularly Pete Zorn, who appears to play an amazing amount of wind instruments in addition to rhythm guitar and (from the side at least) looks a lot like an older Chris Hillman, of The Byrds fame), which immediately endears me to him.

Thompson is also full of witty banter and rather sweetly even apologises when he can't fulfil an audience request. At one point he informs us that there will be a couple of polkas during the show "everybody likes polkas don't they?" he asks. When the audience goes completely silent, he laughs and says "No? Alright, security block the exits!"

As good as the first half was, not surprisingly the "greatest hits" portion of the show is even better, getting off to a superb start with Thompson pulling out a treat, The Angels Took My Racehorse Away, from his debut album, Henry The Human Fly from 1972, which he laughingly tells us is "the worst selling album in Warner Brothers' history. I'm proud of that!" Just goes to show that big selling doesn't equal good, it's a song The Decemberists, as good as they are, wish they could write. The highlight for me is an extended version of Can't Win ("You can't win, turn the cheek, take it on the chin, don't you dare to this, don't you dare to that" - just brilliant), during which I really see just how electrifying his guitar soloing, despite always looks carefree and easy, was.

The fantastic Tear Stained Letter ended the second half and about midway the whole audience is singing along like an old music hall number and the whole thing ends with an extended solo. For the encore he introduced us to his daughter Kami (who I saw supporting Elvis Costello last year) in order to play I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight, a song he performed with her mother, Linda Thompson, and maybe one of the best of their career together. Tonight it sounds joyous and life-affirmingly great, made all the sweeter to see father and daughter performing it together.

There's no doubt, thanks to his energy, humour and enthusiasm, Richard Thompson seems decades younger than his 62 years and I'm glad I finally am able to say that I saw him live. Definitely a great way to kick off my gig-going year.