They may have sold 20 million albums but these are unsettling times for Jamiroquai.

This Christmas, a greatest-hits set should confirm leader Jay Kay's status as Britain's only funky white man, but, as his smilingly delivered but icy barbs against his record company underlined, his band's momentum seems to have stalled as frustratingly as one of his vintage cars.

No matter. Last night Jamiroquai's contribution to the BBC Electric Proms series was an opportunity for the 12-strong ensemble to fill the Jazz Café's tiny stage and cut loose.

Kay, dressed in a woolly hat and tracksuit top, revelled in the small setting: those record company moans aside, he was in genial form and, contrary to popular perception, impossible to dislike.

And, for all his nonsense about "being an old man, now", once he shed the tracksuit, he danced like a dervish, despite panting that "death cannot be far away now" after an especially vigorous If I Like It, I Do It.

Kay sweated star quality, but his drones provided a supertight backdrop that had hints of Roy Ayers on a luxuriously extended Canned Heat, while the floorquaked to Black Capricorn Day and the jaunty Seven Days In Sunny June was layered with waves of soulful sunshine. Mostly, they sounded like nobody on earth; Kay's frequent approximation of Stevie Wonder notwithstanding. A too-well-buried national treasure.