Burns night was sheer poetry ... Adrian Byron Burns the man who looks like Isaac Hayes, sounds like Barry White after a night on the fags and bourbon and plays guitar like he's road-testing it to destruction gave us a show to remember. To say he attacks his music is a bit like saying 'Dubya' intends to have a quiet word in Saddam's shell-like. If you were compiling a set list of blues covers you wouldn't expect to see Paul Simon and Neil Young on the list, Harry Belafonte and Bob Marley maybe, yet all were called into service alongside more familiar names like Big Bill Broonzy and Robert Johnson. The skeletons of Simon's Mother And Child Reunion, Young's When You Dance, Marley's No Woman No Cry and Belafonte's Kingston Town were recognisable, what he did with them was not.

He coaxed and cajoled, whooped and wailed them into something more, and all the way through ihe gilded the lily with some wonderful guitar cameos. As if to say 'yeah, I can play a bit as well'. Robert Johnson's Come Into My Kitchen, Big Bill Broonzy's Key To The Highway sat neatly alongside original numbers, perhaps the best of which was Xenophobia Blues.

Inside the showman was a deep-rooted sense of conscience. Like Dickinson, Burns understands and respects his music. He is as passionate about it off stage as he is on. But Burns is very much his own man, he revels in doing it his way. His two 'ologies' were the perfect example. Hendrixology and Beatlesology need little explanantion except to repeat one comment: 'You think you know what he's playing but you're never 100% sure.'

Note to Maureen Lipman an 'ology' just became an art form in the talented hands of Adrian Byron Burns.