Sheryl Crow

Sheryl Crow

Glasgow Royal Concert Hall

Lisa-Marie Ferla

Fronting a seven-piece band in a rhinestone-covered peasant top, Sheryl Crow was the perfect antidote to the Monday blues.

Seeing an artist whom you haven't listened to in about a decade is always a risky endeavour, but after opening with Maybe Angels - the first track on her 1996 self-titled album - Crow barely let the energy drop all night.

In fact, from my seat on the platform above the Concert Hall's newly-adopted standing area I saw more merriment than I've ever started the week with, as a touch of pedal steel recast early rocker A Change Will Do You Good as a full on barn-dance.

Like some kind of anti-Lucinda Williams, Crow's voice has become sweeter with age despite the rootsier sound of her later material. While it gave newer songs such as 2013's Callin' Me When I'm Lonely a glossy Nashville sheen, the old kiss-offs like My Favourite Mistake and Home had lost a little of their bitter bite.

Not that anybody was complaining. Her performance of Give It To Me allowed her vocal acrobatics almost worthy of Mariah Carey; while Best of Times ended with an extended harmonica-led honky-tonk jam session. Real Gone, from the soundtrack to the Pixar film Cars, let Crow sling her guitar over her shoulder and belt the song out like a rockstar, and an acoustic Strong Enough was one of the prettiest parts of the night.

Her cover of First Cut Is The Deepest got one of the loudest singalongs, before a closing set featuring hits If It Makes You Happy, Soak Up The Sun and Every Day Is A Winding Road raised the roof.