Arooj Aftab @ Usher Hall, Edinburgh, 24 Jun

Nathan Somevi opens the evening with some jazzy, soulful tunes, ably supported by a sometimes show-stealing saxophonist. With his unique seven-string half-bass/half-guitar, he can nimbly switch modes as the hybrid instrument delivers melodies and basslines simultaneously. Occasionally he dips into Jaco Pastorius-like jazz virtuosity, but his best songs have the funky energy of prime Stevie Wonder.

The supporting pair cut lonely figures on the big stage, pushed right to the edge to accommodate the orchestra to come. And it's clear from the first moments of Suroor that this performance will go above and beyond the usual sonics that Arooj Aftab deals in. While she has a textured approach on record, live she typically employs a sparse palette of drums, double bass and the odd effect to frame her beautiful, elegiac voice. But tonight she's joined by around 20 others to help replicate her layered sound and then some.

The London Contemporary Orchestra is tonight conducted by Robert Ames, and it's easy to see why they're often tapped up for high-profile soundtrack work (most recently Bugonia and One Battle After Another). They bring a sense of wide-eyed, cinematic wonder to Aey Nehin and Baghon Main. But it's in subtle moments and solos that the magic becomes most apparent: the whistling interlude during Raat Ki Rani, the woodwind on Mohabbat and the powerful bass trombone on Diya Hai.

Alongside the orchestra, Aftab has brought her usual drummer (Engin Kaan Günaydin) and double bassist (Petros Klampanis), who both find time to shine, particularly during the main set closer, Bola Na, where Günaydin brings thunderous, martial drums and Klampanis provides a plodding, doom-laden bassline. Perhaps fitting considering it's about teenage heartbreak and listening to death metal, as Aftab lets us know.

She's in chatty high spirits all night, explaining why she's ditched her previously standard sunglasses (being mistaken for being blind), her turf war with the other Arooj Aftab (a young influencer) and her love of Edinburgh (she's hitting the pubs for the Scotland match later). She brings out whisky shots; there's not quite enough for the whole crowd, but everyone in the orchestra gets one. Despite the stark, sacred aura of her music she explains that most of her songs are about sex, booze and heartbreak, but that doesn't make them any less powerful when Aftab reaches the top of her range, using the Hindustani ghazal form to demonstrate her expressive vocal control.

Ames may be conducting tonight, but he frequently looks to Aftab for guidance to keep her unique compositions impeccably tight. And Aftab may look casual (less so without the shades), but she takes clear pride in the polished sound that inhabits the hall tonight. With so many quality players, and a rich catalogue to draw from, a few more songs might have made even greater use of the ensemble, but that's a minor quibble on what is generally a fantastic evening of music. This is the final show of the collaboration, but some further work together would be well worth exploring.