In The Wee Review’s preview of March gigs not to miss, we sang the praises of Mr Flynn in no uncertain terms, drawing attention to his success as a folk songsmith and his acting chops on both the small and silver screen. After tonight’s performance, you can add stubbly good looks, trumpet wizardry and general bumbling charisma to his long list of attributes and accolades.

The show opens with an eye-catching set from Holly Holden y su Banda, not least because of Holden’s bejewelled headgear. As the name of the outfit suggests, Holden is dead good at Spanish and not afraid to show it, combining castellano and English in her lyrics and an unmistakeable Caribbean influence in her rhythms to achieve a sound that she herself dubs ‘Tropical Soul’. The music is punchy and addictive, fusing elements of funk and soul together to create a hip-sashaying blend of styles underpinned by Holden’s beautiful vocals.

After half an hour of such warm-uppery, Holden leaves the stage only to return minutes later in the guise of Flynn’s bass player and backup singer (now thankfully sans shiny tiara-thingy). From the off, Flynn’s flawless voice provides the main attraction of the performance, with his impressive set of pipes filling every inch of La Belle Angele’s cavernous interior. The venue boasts arguably the best acoustics in Edinburgh and throughout the show, Flynn and his band make full use – nowhere more so than at the introduction of the drums on The Wrote and the Writ.

The band proceed to switch back and forth between old favourites from A Larum and Been Listening and newer tracks from 2013’s Country Mile and his fourth album Sillion, released days prior to tonight’s show. In particular, the lengthy ballad The Landlord is given its debut airing, a circumstance which Flynn freely confesses he’s concerned about, but which comes off with polished aplomb in the end.

The musical diversity of Flynn and his band is on full display throughout, with flutes, cellos, guitars and drums mixing over the course of the 90-minute show as well as a brief but warmly-welcomed cameo from Flynn’s very own trumpet. Still wearing his guitar round his neck, Flynn brandishes the instrument from locations unknown and incites a fever pitch in the fervent crowd – it’s just a shame he doesn’t whip it out more often.

The music itself stays largely true to Flynn’s folk origins, but now and again elements of other genres are allowed to creep in, including blues, rock and even suggestions of ska in the encore. Perhaps the highlight of the show, however, comes when Flynn plays the theme to the gently humorous BBC show The Detectorists, confessing that he can’t remember who requested it or who he’s supposed to dedicate it to. The intent was romantic and the execution endearing, despite his self-acknowledged sieve-like memory.

Indeed, it’s touches like this (as when he pauses briefly to allow an overheated audience member to get to cooler climes) that shows Flynn’s obvious charisma, and it’s a shame that there isn’t more audience interaction – especially when his band is named The Sussex Wit. But witty or not, Flynn’s return to Edinburgh must go down as an undoubted success… but forget the cowbell, this audience clearly has a fever and the only prescription is more trumpet. More trumpet baby!