Governor Hindmarsh Hotel, April 17. Review / Andrew McHugh.

AT last – a full-length, two-hour acoustic set from Richard Thompson rather than the curtailed performances he has given at two past Womadelaides.

Two dozen songs from his extensive catalogue were played and while not everybody’s favourite could be fitted in, no-one had any right to be disappointed, even if some hoped for Dear Janet Jackson, a little ditty about a recent boob on television (it is available from his website). Thompson’s guitar playing was superlative; dazzling finger picking on top of a driving bass line interspersed with his patented bent notes and unusual chords and scales. At times (most times) it seemed as if two or more guitars, or a 12-string guitar were being played at once, such was his speed and precision.

Notoriously shy, he has developed an endearing wry and clever stage persona. Who else, as a practitioner of the Islamic Sufi sect, would introduce himself as a member of the Taliban in David Hicks’ home town and proceed to sing Outside of the Inside, a scathing yet somehow celebratory condemnation of Western civilization? It was one of the songs from his “current rather than new” record, The Old Kit Bag, of which he only has a few left to sell (about 100,000). Such is the self-deprecating lot of a critically acclaimed but relatively poor-selling recording artist who nonetheless seems at peace with the circumstances.

A highlight, especially for long-time followers, was a perfectly executed, concise rendition of Sloth, a song known to stretch to 45 minutes during Fairport Convention concerts.

Another was the abridged version of his 1000 years of popular song concert, which Thompson plays a few times a year. The idea came about when Playboy magazine asked him for a list of the best songs of the millennium. They obviously balked at Sumer is Icumen In but we were regaled with So Ben Mi Ca Bon Tempo, Shenandoah and (not as surprising as it may seem) Britney Spears’s Ooops! I Did It Again. Fortunately the Black Death segment (“It’s my pustule and I’ll cry if I want to”) was held over for another time.

The strength of his storytelling in song stood out as he trawled his back catalogue for Dimming of the Day, I Want to See the Bright Light Tonight and even Hokey Pokey. Thompson’s voice is so assured these days that the singing of his ex-wife Linda was hardly missed on those songs originally done together, and his voice positively shone on newer favourites 1952 Vincent Black Lightning, Crawl Back (with its distinct lack of audience participation), Beeswing and From Galway To Graceland, a glorious song chronicling the obsessive love of an Irish housewife for Elvis.

For as long as Richard Thompson can reach into his old kit bag and pull out such exquisite songs of love and life gone awry, there will be a devoted audience waiting for his performances.