A teacher once told Chris Wood that he was ‘obsessed with trivia’. The comment was intended as criticism. Yet attention to small details becomes a gift in the hands of a folk songwriter. Chris Wood’s intimate performance at the North Wall tonight showcases his insightful, witty lyrics.

Wood has accrued a slew of awards across his career. This is not because he plays the game. He jokes that he has no manager. He also has not performed a gig for some time. It takes a while for him to warm up, with false starts and lengthy spoken introductions between songs. The amiable chatter makes more sense when Wood confesses his worry that ‘the songs alone might not explain at all’. He need not fear. Once in his stride, Wood’s beautiful ballads and ‘grown-up love songs’ paint a striking picture of modern Britain.

The most revealing song is ‘None the Wiser’, bitter and bleak by turns. Penned a few years ago, when on the road with Joan Armatrading, Wood describes it as a ‘gazetteer’ of the provinces post-recession. Wood sings of boarded up shops and pay day loans and young people struggling with tuition fees. Other pieces are not tied to a moment in time, but still make the audience think. Wood recalls a year when he was collaborating with a young hip-hop artist while visiting his slowly dying father. Sometimes he felt decrepit; sometimes full of life. The resulting song is a wonderfully honest reflection on the ageing process.

Towards the end of the evening, Wood plays a tribute to Martin Carthy, with whom he served a kind of folk apprenticeship, driving him to gigs at the start of his career. Wood hails Carthy as ‘one of the greats’. This is not in doubt but Wood is perhaps too self-effacing here. Few can match Wood’s way with lyrics, his ability to re-interpret old song. The twist on ‘Jerusalem’ is a case in point tonight. The small setting and great acoustics of the North Wall are the perfect way to see this future great.