Live Review: Ryan Adams, Jenny Lewis

Jenny Lewis is right. The Enmore is cooler than the Metro. The veteran frontwoman instantly takes charge of the expansive venue, strutting confidently around the stage and winning over new fans by the second. Lewis' music, a melting-pot of American influences, refuses easy classification, but it's damn good and she knows it. Just One Of The Guys is brimming with Californian charm, while the guitar solo that caps off She's Not Me calls the Allman Brothers to mind. It takes the surprise addition of a few Rilo Kiley songs (including the electrifying Portions For Foxes) to really get the crowd excited, but the campfire-style acoustic singalong of Acid Tongue brings things to a satisfying close.

Soon after, Ryan Adams strides on stage and rips right into Gimme Something Good, and straight away a high bar is set for energetic, fist-pumping rock. Adams' current band The Shining is only a year old but they lock in tight, drawing out the soulful Dirty Rain until it hits its gorgeous peak and revelling in the otherworldly harmonies that close out Easy Plateau. Magnolia Mountain is a genuine power-pop miracle and ignites a gorgeous solo section that highlights Adams' emotive guitar improvisation, the song swelling until it bursts into an effortless coda. The band clearly enjoys jumping from style to style, and the show benefits immensely from the massive variety that Adams' catalogue provides, striking the right balance between old and new.

Early in the set, Adams patiently reminds an audience member to switch off their camera's flash. The singer has struggled with Ménière's disease — an inner ear disorder whose symptoms include severe vertigo — for much of his career and the flashing light can trigger an attack. Regrettably, the flash stays on throughout the night, which means Adams has a harder and harder time on stage. Visibly distressed, he plays it cool, but the tension never really dissipates.

It's a testament to Adams' tenacity and professionalism that he sticks to his guns, ignoring the shitty part of the crowd and delivering an expansive set that unflinchingly delivers the lofty highs of gut-punching rock'n'roll as well as pure, reflective moments of heartbreaking honesty. Despite over two hours' worth of music, the fans are still hungry for more at the night's end, but few could contain their delight with what they had experienced. One of the (far too many) song requests shouted at Adams said it all: "I Love You But I Don't Know What To Say".