When Teddy Thompson’s fourth album, A Piece Of What You Need, crashed into the Top 10 last month, a career hitherto comprised almost entirely of false starts was finally up and running.

It’s never easy for the offspring of the fairly famous, and the singer-songwriter son of singer-songwriters Richard and Linda Thompson has both his father’s tight-lipped menace and the regal gravitas of his watching mother.

Yet, the son is rising because he is his own man. Vocally and musically, he’s more reminiscent of Jackson Browne than his father; sartorially, he and his band are besuited tie-wearing, 21st century dandies, whereas his parents still dress as if Ted Heath is Prime Minister; and he’s laugh-out-loud funny between songs, whereas his father is gauche and his mother nervous.

Despite a preponderance of pony-tailed men, the crowd were as giving as the act. They sang along like salty sea dogs to What’s This?!! and Can’t Sing Straight; they listened in hushed reverence to the stark Everybody Move It and they mooned over a brooding cover of Leonard Cohen’s Tonight Will Be Fine. And yes, last night was indeed fine.