There have been few occasions when a performer’s return to active duty has been more warmly welcomed than that of Jarvis Cocker. Although Pulp fizzled out in 2002, when their final, compilation album, Hits, could climb only as high as No 71 in the UK chart, the group’s lanky front man has retained his folk- hero status and, against the odds, extended his appeal to a generation of younger fans.

Now, after dabbling in an odd assortment of projects, including a cameo in one of the Harry Potter movies, Cocker, 43, has this week released his first solo album, Jarvis.

As is the way in the file-sharing era, the crowd already seemed familiar with many of the songs, which have been circulating for months on the internet. Just as well, since there were to be no old Pulp favourites or other familiar standbys included in a set that rang in the new with a bold, confident swagger.

Still a natural entertainer, Cocker had lost none of his caustic wit and charm. After kicking off the show with an uptempo rocker called Fat Children, he welcomed us all to the venue, which he insisted on identifying by its former name, the Camden Palace. He then laid into Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time, a grand pop song with a typically neat lyric, which he emphasised with a lot of jabbing motions from his bony arms.

“He can kiss you where the sun don’t shine,” he sang with a knowing wiggle of his backside, prompting memories of the infamous gesture with which he disrupted Michael Jackson’s performance at the Brits in 1996. By a cruel coincidence, Jackson was attempting to make his own comeback at the World Music Awards on the other side of town at the same moment, but with conspicuously less success.

Cocker’s band, which included the bass player Steve Mackey, guitarist Richard Hawley and a guest appearance by the keyboard player Candida Doyle, deftly handled the arrangements of Heavy Weather and From Auschwitz to Ipswich, both of which stood comparison with songs from Pulp’s heyday without mimicking them. If anything, Cocker’s observational songwriting style and distinctive vocal tone have both improved with the passing of time.

The dark, menacing drift of Disney Time, which had Hawley down on his knees conjuring spectral noises from his effects pedals while Cocker sang the cascading melody, was one of many highlights.

The encores brought the neo-vaudeville singalong of Running the World followed by a beautifully observed version of David Bowie’s Space Oddity. Commencing lift-off indeed.