Jarrod Lawson, O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire

Having released a self-titled debut album last year, soul singer Jarrod Lawson has been on a European touring offensive for much of this one. Very charming it has been, too, landing Lawson Soul Artist of the Year title at the 2015 Jazz FM Awards, and a string of stellar album reviews. Saturday’s London Jazz Festival appearance – there’s a lot of jazz in Lawson’s harmonic keyboard adventures – was the final night of a month-long European tour. On the evidence of the Shepherd’s Bush crowd, he already has loyal fans who know his music, and their number is increasing rapidly.

There’s a sharper, lighter edge to his voice live than on record, which I found better suited to the dextrous demands of his lyrics. On disc, some subtle multi-tracking and extra vocal depth works when the voice is so close up, but in a large hall, the unprocessed sound gives exceptional articulation. His tonal control is sensational: notes that start sounding one way are massaged into all sorts of shapes by the end of the breath, enabling him to create sudden, breathtaking effects with a momentary shift of accent or emphasis.

The covers – Stevie Wonder and Lewis Taylor are favourites – instantly become his own

He sang most of his album, showcasing songs that marry technical lightness and emotional weight. “Sleepwalkers”, about the “pride of the people”, is a soloist’s extravaganza of brilliant vocalisation, in which Lawson danced through stunning, switchback close harmony arrangements with the backing singers. There’s so much going on with his voice, that little is needed from the band: the flecks of funky bass and light-touch drumming were just enough. “Walk in the Park”, which given the subject matter could easily have been a throwaway piece, is actually a serious discussion about life struggles, decorated, all the same, with astonishing vocal virtuosity. Musical lyricism is combined with serious thought with such skill that both are enhanced. His spirituality is worn lightly, but with his other originals including “Redemption” and “Spiritual Eyes”, there’s a moral depth and seriousness running throughout his work.

The covers – Stevie Wonder and the neglected British singer Lewis Taylor are favourites – instantly become his own. With Wonder, the Motown brass is stripped out, and a leaner, vocally very precise sound emerges. His version of Wonder’s “I Wish” has less of his rambunctious funk, focusing its energy on drawing out the lyrical nuances. Instead of jolly nostalgia, there’s a touch of neurosis, accenting the song in an entirely new way.

Lawson has developed a regular duo with Portland singer Tahirah Memory, who has recently released her own album, Pride. They’re a great match, Memory his equal syllable-for-syllable in her virtuosic vocal embellishments. Her song “Alright” had more of a West Coast feel-good mood about it than Lawson’s more introspective compositions, but it showcased her acrobatic lyrical brilliance superbly.

There was a nervous atmosphere in the hall after the horrifying events at the Bataclan, but such was the warmth and energy from Lawson and his band that a huddle became a swaying, cheering throng. As testament not just to Lawson’s ability, but the power and value of live music and art, it was compelling.