At the first glimpse of Stevie, the audience rose in admiration; his reputation had preceded him. But with reputation comes responsibility. There’s no doubt he’s one of the greatest living soul musicians. His first hit came when he was just 13, so he’s still relatively young when so many of his Motown contemporaries are playing the great concert hall in the sky.

In 45 years, he’s had 45 hits in the UK charts; tellingly, though, the last was 20 years ago. After so long out of the limelight, a month-long European tour was a cause for celebration — this was the last night. With his own ten-piece American band and three lively backing singers, this should have been a night to remember.

There is often a conflict between what the artist wants to play and what the fans want to hear. Stevie spent too long showing-off his musical virtuosity; he’d been on stage for an hour and half and had still only played four of the hits the audience had come to hear. Too long had been spent on the less familiar and vocoder synthesised indulgence. Sadly, every time he lifted the audience’s emotions with his tried and tested music he quickly slapped them down again. The show was being filmed for the big screens and posterity. If it had been on DVD the temptation to reach for the fast-forward button would have been too great to resist. He was the first Motown artist to negotiate his own production deal, saying no to the boss, Berry Gordy, when others only said yes. Perhaps he’s had too long without someone to say no to him.

After an hour and three quarters, he finally got round to the hits, but he rattled off many of them with undue haste. Other classics were missing completely. It was if he valued his legacy less than his paying guests. The warm appreciation that accompanied his earlier self-gratification turned to rapturous applause as he stormed to a finish with Superstition. If only he’d got round to it a lot earlier.