When it comes to Chilly Gonzales, you never know what to expect; smashed guitars, dressing gowns, special guests, dual drummers, slack rap, piano ballads, sarcastic banter, or all of the above. One thing you can rely on though, is that it’ll be a concert to remember.

I arrive just as Gonzo takes stage, pushing my way through the back of a packed Scala to the dancefloor below. And I really do mean dancefloor. In front of me a group of young girls sway and scatter, taking angled photos of each other. They start to hit on my friend, telling him they’re from Liverpool as he swaps stories of the city with them. The opening refrain of ‘I Am Europe’ distracts, and they shriek and spin around. He turns to me, pressing his tongue into the inside of his chin. They don’t seem like the kind of crowd I was expecting.

‘The Grudge’ raises a large percentage of lighters, a few mobile phones following suit, and it becomes clear that there are two very different crowds at this one show. There are the adults who cheer when ‘Take Me To Broadway’ bounces from the fingers of Gonzales, the listeners who came to the concert for the echoes of Presidential Suite. And then there are the kids who’ve heard Waves bouncing from their car stereos, who want some gay pastry and racist cappuccino to spill from Chilly’s Ivory Tower.

Bearing this in mind, it’s surprising that the crowd are fairly static, that the bar is empty. There’s no leaving during unknown songs, or heckling for a favourite, and this completely down to Gonzales. He has the ability; through his delivery, his charisma, and even through his thoughts that spill and break up songs, he has the ability to captivate an entire crowd. To hold their attention, and to give each person in the audience at least one thing they’ll take home and remember.

Just like the good man said; as an entertainer what you basically are is the sum of your audience’s thoughts about you, and tonight, Gonzales is king.