No one likes a show off. Except maybe the French. Charlie Winston was drowned in screams as he took to the stage last night.

Sporting a red shirt and tie, with waistcoat and trilby to boot, his appearance was more suited to a smoky Parisian cellar bar than to the Islington Academy - a detail unsurprising considering the man is a national icon in France, while rather unheard of in his homeland.

Still, he doesn’t half put on a show. His lyrics, riddled with French, were met by shrill squeals from the somewhat predominantly female audience as he powered his way through his back catalogue.

Every time the man swaggered across the stage, cocked an eyebrow and grinned it was like something out of a Stella Artois advert.

Winston proceeded to toss out moonwalks, guitar kicks, and an array of dance moves to the accompanying harmonica that would have made Michael Jackson proud. There aren’t many artists that can move like this while putting together a set featuring beatboxing, guitar and piano solos, his energy limitless, and voice as versatile as anything this side of the Channel.

Fewer artists still can have the whole room echoing choruses, while they leap off stage and dance into the crowd, beatboxing over the top, scale the bar and shower adoring fans with beer.

There is no doubt it was an over-the-top, self-obsessed, show-off performance, but Charlie Winston’s virtuoso display was one of the best live acts I’ve ever seen.