Thus far in her rootsy career Lizz Wright has yet to invoke Shakespeare but the notion of sweet sorrow is something she already understands intimately. Unrequited romance (I Wanna Stay With You, Chasin' Strange, I Idolise You, Let Me In) is key to her songs, and after an hour of them last night one began to wonder whether any other singer, Leonard Cohen included, had dispensed heartbreak in such lavish proportions.

Even Billie Holiday lightened up now and then. So should Lizz. Her solemn gospel lines, melancholy lyrics and funereal tempi date back to her debut album, Salt, when allowances were made for her youth. Many young girls, it was noted, spend solitary nights wallowing in loneliness and yearning for lurve. But five years on, even after exchanging backwoods Georgia for big bad New York, it's substantially the same story.

On the credit side she has a rich, deep contralto that fills a hall, a majestic instrument that enables its owner to close her eyes and sing the blues away. It also blurs categories. Apart from a few moments from guitarist Brandon Ross, the jazz element was remote, but listeners clearly didn't care. "This jazz, this is blues, this is not - hey listen," she quipped at the start. "I'm just here to have a good time." And in her pain-wracked way, she did.