Tempus fugit. Nearly two decades have passed since Harry Connick Jr made his extraordinary concert debut in London. Critics have tended to be hard on him since then – sometimes with good reason – but on that night there was no question that the showman from New Orleans was blessed with extraordinary gifts. Part of his problem, I’ve always suspected, is that he should have been born in an era when singers worked the boards more than they do now. Albums and state-of-the-art DVDs simply don’t do him justice.

And now here comes a young Yorkshire-born singer whose stage act bears an uncanny resemblance to Connick’s. Just as the American seemed mature beyond his years, so Peter Grant has the confidence of an artist who has paid his dues.

There is, of course, no shortage of contenders rummaging around the Great American songbook. Michael Bublé has been the most successful of them all lately, but there is a bland, airbrushed quality to his concerts. Grant, by contrast, has something of Connick’s easygoing, seat-of-the-pants charm. He may look as if he should be heading off to the school disco, yet he projects the aura of a well-travelled saloon singer.

Backed by an eight-piece band, he cruised through an engaging set of standards, announcing his intentions with a rousing version of Let the Good Times Roll. Droll and relaxed, Grant looked thoroughly at home on the bandstand, and there was an engaging looseness to the playing of the house band, led by that tireless pianist James Pearson.

Connick’s shadow loomed large over a slightly schmaltzy treatment of Danny Boy, which eventually took wing on a Dixieland riff. Ray Charles provided the inspiration for a compelling cover of You Don’t Know Me, Grant taking over at the piano and etching some authentically bluesy lines. Best of all was the funky reworking of the Beatles number I Saw Her Standing There. It may not be long before the newcomer is provoking his very own brand of teen-mania.

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