Jason Beck, aka Chilly Gonzales, now aka GONZO, saunters onstage in a smoking jacket (plus slippers!), sits at his piano and lets loose a few bars, seemingly easing himself into the performance. But then he somehow produces a pair of bongos from his pocket and launches into ‘Gonzo Bongo’, introducing the character at the centre of his upcoming album (himself); mission statement proclamations draped in irony and wit. The persona is perfect for Gonzales, a thinly veiled study of an artist with virtuosic talents, who’s scaled the heights of the industry and been churned up by its soulless machinery, who can look back and laugh as he settles into comfortable middle age.

Chilly is joined tonight by a three-piece band on drums, bass and violin (and occasional synth). They mostly stay out of the limelight, not something easily wrested from a consummate showman like the main man, but there are a few star turns from each, including Joe Flory’s first ever vocal for a version of Daft Punk’s ‘Within’, which Gonzales co-wrote.

After a few opening cuts from the forthcoming album, Gonzales treats us to a medley of some of his Solo Piano work, including ‘Chico’, ‘Dot’ and ‘Rideaux Lunaires’. Although it might be the most well-known aspect of his oeuvre if you only know one thing about him, Gonzales’ virtuosity as a pianist and composer can be forgotten amid the bluster of his stage presence, so it’s nice to have a section to highlight just how good he is in this mode. A later rendition of ‘The Tourist’ underlines this point, with a great anecdote about how Drake stole it and only gave the bare minimum of credit when forced to.

But the mood can change quickly, as the neoclassical pieces are followed by a lengthy bit of exposition about the notorious anti-semite Richard Wagner, separating art from artist and the street names of Cologne, leading into ‘Fuck Wagner’, played with just timpani and vocals. It’s a great example of Gonzales’ ability to use humour and pastiche while still able to make something catchy, and the added bonus of his campaign to change a Cologne street name to honour Tina Turner instead of Wagner is the cherry on top. ‘Knight Moves’ caps off the solo section with its oscillating, arpeggiated motifs, before being reworked into a full band thrasher as the song is stretched well beyond its regular five minutes, culminating in Gonzales going hell for leather on the ivories.

He warms to the task at hand as the show goes on, getting increasingly chatty and mugging to the audience who reciprocate the love. He extols the underdog kinship between Scotland and Canada, repeatedly introduces the band and provides his critique of Spotify playlists as the latest gatekeeping iteration of the music industry. ‘Neoclassical Massacre’ speaks to these concerns in its world premiere tonight, another piece of vintage Chilly that shows he’s lost none of his acuity with a turn of phrase.

The encore sees the band magnanimously offering the best of what Canada has to offer: a cover of Bryan Adams’ ‘Summer of 69’. The original vocals are isolated while the band give a fresh update to the arrangement, with Gonzales doing his best to demonstrate what the song might have sounded like if Roy Bittan had given it the Meat Loaf/Bruce Springsteen treatment back in 1985. The band are clearly having a ball with this, and the party continues into the closer ‘Never Stop (Chilly Gonzales Rap)’. Chilly abandons the piano altogether for a while to come down into the audience, fulfilling the dream of those who wished for an extremely sweaty man in a dressing gown to shout about sex positions and Pinochet in their face. Finishing with another rousing breakdown after he resumes his seat, the band give it their all one last time, before taking a well-earned bow.

For an artist who dabbles in classical piano, electro and bongo-rap, Gonzales manages to tie many disparate threads together into a neat performance that still feels organically coherent. It’s a testament to his skills as both artiste and composer.