WHAT I had really wanted to hear Charlie Lands borough singing was "Drop-kick Me, Jesus, Through The Goalposts Of Life", but last night I had to settle for "God, Knockin' On My Door", with an accompanying knuckle-rap on an acoustic guitar. Oh well, same thing. Landsborough got the message across: God still has a special place in his heart for country music. And, speaking of God, our "forever friend" arrived on stage with a Messianic look about him.

Silver hair, a Grizzly Adams beard and a soothing melodic voice have served to make him, in the eyes of his audience at least, the most popular long-haired male after Jesus. And I had to hand it to him: he had the vast majority eating out of his hand.

Musically, the show was overblown, with grade-one piano school keyboards being used to pump out the melodies, while the drummer, a young lad who would have looked more at home in a rock band, tapped the drums in a way that would have been more suited to a wedding band. Landsborough, unfortunately, decided to devote most of the lulls between his songs to jokes, the majority of which were Irish. It has to be said that one would have to be pretty thin-skinned to take offence at them, but they were, without exception, excrutiat ingly execrable, though the audience's reaction would label me a liar. A highlight of the night was a nice acoustic rendition of You Belong To Me, though Bob Dylan's version, I feel, has more pathos.

Landsborough, for all his faults, offers value for money; he is a master performer who sent quite a few people home with a smile on their face, myself included, if only because I was one of the first out.

Charlie Landsborough plays until next Saturday. Booking: 01-6771717