“Record companies? Who needs ’em? They don’t even send CDs round to radio stations any more,” protested the blind superstar whose latest album, snappily entitled The Genius of José Feliciano, is available only from his website.

After 45 gold or platinum albums and six Grammy awards, the Godfather of Latin music had every reason to complain but the rest of his show was serendipity all the way.

Not even a broken string could halt the momentum of the chunky Puerto Rican dazzler in the crisp white shirt and black wraparound shades. Grabbing a replacement guitar, he reeled off some brilliant solos and powerful vocals in English and Spanish, his bittersweet voice conveying a heavily syncopated blend of virility and pain.

During the evening women kept rising from their seats like spawning salmon to capture a few moments of him on their mobile phones.

Thanks to his ultraslick quintet, even his most impenetrable Spanish ballads packed a rhythmic punch. And when he grooved through his hits — Bambolero, California Dreaming, Listen to the Rain, Light My Fire — it was clear why jazz fans revere him as much as Latin-music connoisseurs do. Olé, José.

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