Wednesday 27/06/07 Rufus Wainwright @ Folkestone Leas Cliff Hall

Emerging out into the old musical hall of the Leas Cliff of 'Folk- stone' as our American cousin calls it, Rufus Wainwright begins the first of his two sets. No support tonight, just two and a quarter hours of unadulterated love in. Following the launch of the gorgeous 'Release The Stars,' Rufus Wainwright, he of the impossibly talented family - counting sister Martha, father Loudon and mother Kate McGarrigle amongst it, has begun a large scale European tour, with a backing band of seven and a lot of brooches. Really glittery ones.

The first of set he plays tonight is an almost exclusively an 'I'm going to promote my new album affair' with only 'The Art Teacher' to break the orchestral pop masterpieces. With the band all suitably bedecked in stripes and glittering jewels, Rufus himself looks like an early 90's TV presenter's Technicolor acid trip in a patchwork striped suit. The songs themselves are a heady mix of brass flourishes, guitar licks and piano chords, creating a classic sort of rock 'n' roll in places, all topped off like a wedding cake with Rufus's soaring voice. The strength of it allows him to mix between gentle piano tinkled ballads and full scale symphonies like 'Beautiful Child.' On one song we get the primary school joy of a recorder. Yummy. After a short interval Rufus emerges wearing a lederhosen. A good look? I don't know.

The second set mixes between the albums, largely focusing on anything after 'Want One.' Mixing in a mic-less version of Irish traditional 'Macushla' and a couple of Judy Garland songs which further showcase that voice varies the pace of the set. The only blemish on a beautiful concert (probably more appropriate than 'gig') is when he forgets the words to 'Not Ready To Love' but as ever his between song asides have the audience eating out the palm of his bejewelled hand. One involves insulting queen of the bass Kim Deal. And he gets away with it. Coming out for the encore in drag for a musical number is a lovely touch, with the backing band recreating the dancing as Rufus acts like the diva he truly is. Although his guitarist just looks a bit confused throughout. The largely middle aged crowd lap it all up, sipping away from Wainwright's symphonic layered pop. Any man who can incorporate the recorder, dress like he's blind and insult the Pixies (and get away with it) is certainly a genius. The music's pretty good too.