Contrasts from the same world: John Grant live in London

While this would be the standard trajectory of young artists starting out, Grant has been doing the rounds for years. Formerly frontman of the less-than-successful The Czars, his later-life solo career and the release of his second solo album Pale Green Ghosts in Spring 2013 propelled him to critical claim and instant popularity almost overnight. Songs about past relationships, telling ex-lovers that they have “a black belt in BS” and reminding them that they could have had the greatest motherfucker they’ll ever meet were counterbalanced with a crisp unraveling of pain amid his destructive past substance addiction.

The follow-up, Greg Tickles, Black Pressure, which was released only last month, is hardly more restrained – “you and Hitler oughta get together / you oughta learn how to knit and make matching sweaters” – and is arguably just as good as its predecessor. It’s telling that virtually everyone gathered at tonight’s show has already memorized the lyrics.

Grant’s is a magnetic stage presence – you can’t miss his staunch figure and beard, after all. Yet he doesn’t overshadow his backing band, and contrary to many artists he humbly introduces them all very early on in the gig, naming them his “collection of badasses”. He plays the part of engrossing balladeer on his first few songs, opener “Grey Tickles, Black Pressure” seeing him sit at the piano and charm the audience. On “Geraldine” he takes to the front of the stage, his almost bumbling demeanour breathing more humanity to the ballad dedicated to late Interiors star Geraldine Page. Yet, much like a Jekll and Hyde, he switches personas for the second portion of the show, focusing on his more experimental, industrial-orientated tracks. “Snug Slacks” thumps with bass, Grant bringing humour on the song’s spoken-word verse as he sways across the stage. It feels a contrast to everything that’s come before tonight, but very much from the same world. “You And Him”, “Guess How I Know” and “Pale Green Ghosts” continue in this ilk, and grouped together they feel almost the set high-point, like Grant focusing all of his passion into a narrow, metallic flash of brilliance.

However, when the songwriter returns to the classic intimacy of “Glacier”, it feels more worthy given that we have already explored both sides of Grant tonight. Starting off slow and echoey, the song struts into Queen-like bombast, and proves a fitting build-up to the title track of his first record Queen of Denmark and arguably his most sing-along worthy song, “GMF”. Shouting “’cus I am the greatest motherfucker that you’re ever gonna meet” with a room full of people proves the evening’s absolute peak, arms swaying and all.

A few solo piano ballads, including The Czars’ song “Drug”, bring the evening towards a somber and reflective close, while he brings the band back on for “Outer Space”. The perfectly paced set showcases a man of diverse and unique talent, whose pain and suffering of the past are turned into an unquestionably brilliant body of work. He turns into a fan when tells the audience that the last time he was at the Apollo he saw Kate Bush, with no more needed to be said about the significance of those shows. Hopefully, many of those here tonight can say the same about him next time they take a trip there, or indeed the Albert Hall.

• Photo by Burak Cingi. See the full gallery here.