This was not the first time Loyle Carner has played Concorde 2, although it was his first as headliner. To sell it out on his first shot was no mean feat – but given the adoration of his crowd and their reaction to his performance, the only way it will be his last Concorde headline, is if he plays a bigger venue next time.

The most immediately striking thing about Loyle is his charm. With his show comes the personality, as well as the music, to the point where it feels weird to call him ‘Carner’: to see him live is to be on first name terms. He’s inimitably chatty, and relentlessly open. His very first song, for example, was the poignant ‘BFG’, about the loss of his dad. It’s a song built on rainy-sounding keys with frank lyrics that puts everything out on the table, immediately building a relationship between the artist and crowd. It didn’t hurt that everybody in the room knew the refrain “of course I’m fucking sad/I miss my fucking dad.”

Not that his music isn’t the main event. He’s first and foremost an excellent lyricist, with a flow that’s dry and laid back. As a rapper he’s very talented – we described in our review of his performance at Bestival how, faced with technical problems, he performed most of his set a-capella. He didn’t have to deal with that this time, but still found time to freestyle, although he was a little light on flow-changing.

Behind him he’s got a great producer and beat-maker in Rebel Kleff. For most of the gig he provided widely varied, but always excellent production, from the dusty jazz of ‘Ain’t Nothing Changed’ to the gritty grunge of ‘No CDs’. For this last one, and ‘The Money’, Kleff did join Loyle on vocals, showing off his own skills and slightly harsher style.

Highlights were unreleased material from his forthcoming album, set for release in spring, including one written with Tom Misch. Throughout it all, Loyle was incredibly likeable and irresistibly lovable as a twenty-one year-old enjoying, if not quite believing, his own success. His real talent, the one that’s selling out his gigs, lies in mirroring this relatability in his songwriting – and in distilling that common experience to a catchy refrain. His songs all deal with subjects that are utterly everyday: personal loss, relationships with your mum or dad, an argument with a friend, or being a broke student.

He steers clear from some of the more aggressive themes of popular rap, preferring subjects that have a wide appeal, and resonance, for a young British audience. He can be angry, but never violent; he swears, but not too much. Perhaps this is why younger fans in particular were drawn to his show – and why their parents didn’t mind them attending a rap concert. Who knows whether Loyle is aware that with his winning smile and cuddly style he sits comfortably in this niche in the market – but whether he does or not detracts nothing from his achievements as a young and talented rapper, songwriter and performer.
Ben Noble