Counting Crows, Point Theatre, DublinSan Francisco's Counting Crows are adored in Ireland, while elsewhere they elicit polite indifference. It is no mystery why: like David Gray and Josh Ritter, artists hugely acclaimed here when they couldn't get arrested overseas, the Crows specialise in cloying blue-collar rock, a genre for which we have cultivated an apparently insatiable appetite.

Critics may - and do - sneer but while more fêted acts struggle to raise a crowd, the Crows can fill the Point, performing to an audience that lustily sings along to every second number. Such unwavering devotion is clearly appreciated by a quintet which, without a significant hit in half a decade, seems desperate for affirmation.

Beefy frontman Adam Duritz appears especially appreciative of the attention, joshing frantically with the crowd as if they are old drinking buddies whom he is anxious to impress. In fact, his rambling monologues are more engaging than the group's meandering folk-rock. Yearning and heartfelt thought it may be, Counting Crows material is fatally undisciplined, laden with bombastic fretwork, self-gratifying middle sections and laborious solos. There are exceptions of course: breakthrough single Mr Jones is a beguiling slice of folk-rock, a lilting cover of Joni Mitchell's Big Yellow Taxi surpasses the original and Round Here - featuring guest vocals from support star Gemma Hayes - nearly transcends its gloopy lyrics.

But when Duritz clambers behind a grand piano to bash out a string of turgid ballads that prompt scenes of lighter waving you find yourself reaching for the nearest sharp object. Counting Crows may be thoroughly decent folk but their relentless cheerfulness is enough to stir the mildest soul into a murderous frenzy. - Ed Power

Orchestra of St Cecilia

St Ann's Church, Dublin

Sunday saw the opening of the third series in the Orchestra of St Cecilia's Complete Church Cantatas of J.S. Bach. By a happy piece of programming the deep devotional feeling of the Palm Sunday Cantata 'Himmelskonig, sei willkommen' No 182 was framed by the joyful outbursts of 'Wie schon leuchtet die Morgenstern' No 1, and 'Der Herr derket an uns' No 196. This last appears to have been written for a wedding and after a brief Sinfonia, the four sung sections ask for God's blessing in words from the Psalms.

The message is clear and repetitive so the listener can enjoy the work as pure music without doctrinal implications. Lynda Lee's aria was instrumental in its virtuosity; the duet for Robin Tritschler and Nigel Williams was suitably solemn in its reference to the children that would crown the union; and Fishamble voices sang with power, conviction and accuracy.

No 182, for Palm Sunday, is more elaborate and I would have welcomed greater clarity in the singing as it is not easy to follow a German text with only an English translation to rely on.

One assumes that Bach's choice of words was governed more by religious than musical consideration.

Words apart, there is much to delight in, particularly in the prominent part allotted to the recorder, played on this occasion with a fluid eloquence by Jenny Robinson. Its presence brought to this Cantata an ethereal expressiveness lacking in the more robustly conceived Cantatas that surrounded it, and which admirably counterparted Alison Browner's aria.

No 1, which employs two horns, two oboes and two concertante violins in addition to the strings and continuo, was infectiously cheerful and kept up a forward impetus under Brian MacKay's conducting; it made a vigorous introduction to a most satisfying concert. - Douglas Sealy

Ulster Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite

Ulster Hall, Belfast

Blue Poles ............................................................. Stephen Gardner Violin Concerto ......................................................Hamilton Harty

Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage..............................Mendelssohn Symphony No 98 in B flat..................................................... Haydn

Stephen Gardner's contribution to last year's Belfast Festival's four-composer Sounding the City made a strong impression, which the Radio 3 commission Blue Poles, named after a Jackson Pollock painting, reinforces.

The gaunt bass sonorities of the opening showed an uncompromising musical imagination, but the succeeding passage showed sensitivity and harmonic expressiveness as well as assurance in handling dense textures.

The reflective final passage was particularly effective.

Hamilton Harty's Violin Concerto, written for Joseph Szigeti in 1908, offers the nearly complementary qualities of a warm, familiar romantic idiom and charming if not especially memorable melody.

Belfast-born Michael d'Arcy spun a fine thread of tone from his Testore violin, the delicate quieter passages coming off well. This is an immensely fetching piece, but it is Gardner's more challenging sonorities which stay in the memory.

Haydn and Mendelssohn are both difficult composers to bring off, their apparent lightness making more demands on performers than some ostensibly weightier music.

Too often conductors and players rely on mere speed to animate textures which require careful articulation of detail, and in the Haydn especially one kept wanting more rhythm and less haste.

A harpsichord tinkled away through three of the four movements of the symphony, spoiling the surprise of the little keyboard solo at the end - scholars are surely right in suggesting that this is Haydn's witty rejoinder to London critics who noticed that while he sat at the keyboard to conduct he never played it, and deduced that he never played it because he couldn't. - Dermot Gault

Jesse Malin

Whelan's, Dublin

Springing from the microphone stand to the lip of his small stage, Jesse Malin exudes an energy that Whelan's strains to contain. Yet the intimate venue suits him well, easily accommodating Malin's warm familiarity. Indeed, tearing through his stock of rock-injected folk tunes and a steady stream of New York City anecdotes, the tousle-haired Queens resident seems right at home.

Championed by alt.country buddy Ryan Adams (producer and guest guitarist on Malin's solo début, The Fine Art of Self-Destruction), the one-time glam punk is riding high on Springsteen-grade rock 'n' roll and Ramones-revved punk, occasionally offset by the bruised, folksy introspection of Neil Young.

His sold-out appearance begins, though, with a straight-ahead rock treatment of Downliner before Malin's squinting intensity barges through new ballad About You, rife with breezy keyboards and sweet vocal harmonies.

It's that effortless balance between brash charisma and laidback approachability that makes Malin's gig special.

Concluding a riveting and voyeuristic tale of his days as a furniture-mover, snooping through Barbara Streisand's penthouse apartment, Malin cheerily recalls his weary coda, "All right, let's get a falafel and go back to Brooklyn", making it sound like the coolest utterance in history.

The story dovetails into Brooklyn, an absorbing evisceration of low-key loss which furthers the New York specifics, but it's clear that Malin sees beyond the five boroughs. As the song shuffles by on Joe McGinty's delicate keyboards while Johnny McNabb's guitar wails politely, such understated sentiments only increase the poignancy of Clash cover Death Or Glory, a Joe Strummer tribute made more touching by the band's celebratory pulse.

Wearing his politics on his sleeve, even Malin's dissidence comes with a shrug, as (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding marks his final gesture towards reconciling a local feeling with the bigger picture.

Just like Malin's music, it's a winning combination. - Peter Crawley