T on the Fringe: Jo Mango @ Cabaret Voltaire

I hope you give her a good review, she's lovely, a woman says to me in the crowd, with a surprisingly frank partisanship. The crowd clearly loves this lady; when she announces her penultimate song, they audibly "awwww".

Maybe it's because she makes The Cabaret Voltaire seem like a living room. Despite an infuriating buzz from a ceiling speaker, Jo Mango leads a set of refreshing heart-felt candour. When she hits those high notes it looks as though she's glimpsing nirvana.

This lady and her band will never get a bad review, so lovable is their presence. Jo's stories, born of nerves, endear her to her listeners. She introduces a song about a man she saw getting stabbed, before deducing the experience "was quite hip hop really." Her microphone smells like Marmite, apparently, though later she concedes it may be herself who smells like Marmite.

Backed up by a pleasantly innocuous and versatile band, she has tunes which more than justify her loyal following, and which, undoubtedly, will command more cohorts in the future. [Mike Duffy]