Neil Diamond, Radio 2 Electric Proms, Roundhouse

At 7.55pm I was tired and grouchy. By 9.30pm I was a happy man, thanks to Neil Diamond. Say what you like about this 69-year-old singer and songwriter: he may be a cheesy old showbiz pro, but personally I am partial to a bit of cheesy showbiz, and an hour and a half in his company on the final night of this year’s Radio 2 Electric Proms was a real tonic.

With his Thunderbirds eyebrows and his prowling gait, Diamond was an imposing figure whose voice has lost none of its gritty rasp, a quality that lends his songs emotional authenticity. And his rapport with the audience was immaculate – lots of eye contact, expansive gestures at the big moments, a serious little nod of acknowledgment when a familiar song was greeted with a ripple of applause, a wave for the folks in the balcony, another little nod to acknowledge the cheers that came back. A real trouper.

He was a garrulous host, too, flirting with the ladies of a certain age who clustered around the edge of the stage in a sort of middle-aged mosh pit, and talking – as he always seems to, and with not terribly convincing self-deprecation - about how he was “just a kid from Brooklyn” when he became an in-demand songwriter in the mid-1960s.

And he was a crowd-pleaser, delivering exactly what the audience wanted: all the hits, played by his band of old-timers, backed by a string section. In contrast with Elton John, who I’m told made a poor job of balancing old tunes and new material at his Electric Proms show on Thursday night, Diamond didn’t oversell the new stuff, almost apologising as he introduced another song from Dreams, his decent new album of cover versions, among them a surprisingly affecting rendition of "Midnight Train to Georgia" and a strong, stirring "Ain’t No Sunshine". On neither occasion did he even attempt to sing them as “soul” songs; he sang them as Neil Diamond songs, with that strong, measured, purposeful delivery. Also impressive was a stripped-down version of his own "I'm a Believer". Mercifully we were spared the album’s low point, a version of Gilbert O’Sullivan’s irredeemably sickly "Alone Again (Naturally)".

As has become traditional with the Electric Proms, he also brought on a couple of guests. The first was the perennially perky Lulu, who sang a Neil Diamond song that she had a hit with in 1967, "The Boat That I Row", followed by a sweet and soulful "I’m a Fool For You", finishing each song in a little clinch with Diamond, her sparkly stilettoed heel kicked up behind her. Rather less flirtatious, but packing considerably more musical muscle, was the second guest, Amy Macdonald, who, accompanied only by her own acoustic guitar, wrapped her remarkable tonsils around "Shilo" and "This is The Life". What a voice she has: it seems to belong to another era.

Then Diamond stepped back into the spotlight for the finale: the dark and purposeful "Holly Holy", an exuberant "Cracklin’ Rosie", and the irresistible "Sweet Caroline", the audience waving their arms like sea anemones on a coral reef.

What else can I say? This was good, old-fashioned, uplifting fun, lapped up by the Roundhouse audience, and doubtless appreciated by those listening live on Radio 2 (it’s due for broadcast on TV later in November). And there were times, notably on "Pretty Amazing Grace" and the magnificent "I Am... I Said", when Neil Diamond reminded us that, for all his slick showmanship and smooth patter, he’s a man of substance, too.

• Neil Diamond's Acoustic Christmas reviewed on theartsdesk

Overleaf: Neil Diamond sings "I Am... I Said"