IN John Lennon rock'n'roll jeans and slick quiff, Richard Hawley is as vintage as his sepia-toned songs of Sheffield noir, kitchen-sink romantic yearning and blue skies beyond; songs that feel like they have been here forever.

He may be up against young pups Mika, Jamie T and Newton Faulkner for the BRIT for British Male Solo Artist, but the Sheffield steelworker's son far better stands comparison with lonesome late-Fifties crooners that so influenced Morrissey too.

At 41, Hawley has tapped into a melody goldmine that far surpasses the naval-gazing latterday Morrissey, and those mellifluous melodies carry lyrics that may be deceptively nostalgic, but talk of broken love, thwarted hopes, loss and a sun that refuses to shine, albeit countered by a wish for change and another chance (hence the imagery of rivers and seas and an audience that matches Hawley's well-worn features).

Latest album Lady's Bridge provides ten of the chill night's 16 lush, glowing songs that forego string or brass embellishments but attain warmth and blood flow from the close-knit playing of Hawley's regular sidemen, especially keyboard player Jon Trier and guitarist Shez Sheridan, whose detour into lapsteel is a particular joy.

Hawley's guitar swaps country pang for twang for a couple of rockabilly rushes, but more often he rolls as slowly as an old river, as on his cover of Ricky Nelson's Lonesome Town or Just Like The Rain. Add Hawley's deadpan Yorkshire wit, and one day all concerts will be this mighty fine.