Janelle Monáe, KOKO

The video for this Kansas fantasist’s new single shows Monáe in harshly lit close-up singing the adrenalin-charged “Cold War” directly to camera. But then halfway through the song her concentration goes and she starts laughing and then crying, leaving one wondering what the thinking was behind its release.

Or perhaps she just thought it was time to augment her cold robotic persona with a she-has-feelings-too persona. So, which Monáe did a highly expectant Camden crowd see at KOKO last night? To cut straight to the chase - because support band Wolf Gang were an Aha-meets-Ultravox abomination - Monáe’s set began as her debut album The ArchAndroid begins, with a woozy sampled string section segueing into the propulsive and edgy “Faster”.

Within minutes Monáe’s masterpiece of a quiff was shaken loose by the ferocity of her performance, so that she had to leave the stage for a moment to re-sculpt it. A version of Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile” followed, which was a chance for her to demonstrate her impressive range and tonal control as a vocalist. Performed with nothing but some tasteful jazzy guitar chords from Kellindo Parker, it was the first high point of the evening.

But Benjamin was really only in his element when he was playing notes that only dogs can hear, wringing sustained Prince-like solos from his instrument whenever Monáe went off into one of her James Brown dances, which was during just about every song. The band were only a three-piece (drums, guitar, and a guy doubling on keyboards and bass) but they created a pretty impressive wall of sound. Inevitably the highlight of the evening was the closing two songs, “Cold War” (without laughter or tears) followed by the greatest pop song of the 21st century so far, “Tightrope".

Needless to say this small band - even augmented by a couple of backing vocalists - couldn’t do full justice to the latter. For one thing, “the classy brass” that puts the icing on the cake of the record was just a low-in-the-mix sample which sounded like it was coming from underneath a pillow. But such compromises must be a sign of the crumbling-music-industry times because this was the second time this week I’ve reviewed a gig in which only the bare minimum of musicians were there to deliver the goods.

And talking of Caitlin Rose, it might be pertinent to compare her to Janelle Monáe in another respect too. Yes, I know they couldn’t be more different musically, but it’s interesting to note that they also couldn’t be more different in how they related to their audiences. Ms Rose couldn’t stop talking to the crowd at the Windmill on Monday night. But as far as I was aware, Ms Monáe didn’t say a single word to us last night. Those tears in the “Cold War” video may have been an indication of a living, breathing person behind the performer’s wide-eyed mask, but for the moment Janelle Monáe seems more comfortable to just give us her alter ego, the android messiah (don’t ask) Cindi Mayweather.

The final song of the encore was the turbo-charged Cramps-like rocker “Come Alive”, which - in an embarrassingly contrived way - begs the question: what would Janelle Monáe be like if she came alive? There's no question that last night she gave the kind of consummate performance one might expect from a graduate of the New York American Musical and Dramatic Academy, but I wanted to fall just a little bit in love with her, and I didn’t. To sum up: Monáe and her band performed at us, not to us. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be back for more.

Overleaf: watch the video for "Cold War"