GENERALLY when artists take to the stage and tell the audience how great it is to be in whatever venue their playing, there's an air of insincerity.
Not so with Luka Bloom.
When he strolls on stage and tells you he's delighted to be at Warwick Arts Centre because "it's feckin' difficult to find", you know he really means it.
He follows it up with a story about Tibet that ends in him musing over whether or not the organisers of New York's St Patrick's Day parade would let the Dalai Lama lead it next year.
It's at that point the audience realises they're in for a gig with a difference.
The small theatre at Warwick Arts Centre certainly lends itself to intimate concerts, but it still takes a special musician to use it to the maximum.
The Irishman is certainly that.
With wonderful technical ability on guitar and songs that meander through love and politics, by way of the meaning of life, Bloom captivates.
His dour stage outfit - crumpled black shirt, dark jeans - is in contrast to his polished performance.
Yet there's no air of superficiality, no going through the motions. Every song is sung as if for the first time, with a joy and vigour that makes you think this is the first gig of the tour - in fact, it's the last.
Although there's no denying his Irishness, there's far more to Bloom than the music that comes from his traditional folk roots.
From the finger-picking stillness of his love songs to the frenzied strumming of the electro-acoustic guitar in his louder moments, his style takes him far beyond the boundaries of his native County Kildare.
Yet his concert feels like sitting in an Irish pub, listening to music and chatting about politics, life, love.
If you're looking for the craic, Luka's definitely great company.
What's on 
