Lidell a showman and a soul man

With his white suit, untied bow tie, and sliding dance moves, Jamie Lidell played the part of a blue-eyed soul singer at a late show - made later by a delayed start and an incongruous opening set by the Liz Phair-like Jennifer O'Connor - at World Cafe Live on Wednesday night (and into Thursday morning).

He sang the part, too, starting with the hand-clapping, toe-tapping, sax-honking burst of joy that is "Another Day." The tall, thin Lidell slid his appealing tenor voice around the beat, adding judicious interjections and slurs, reveling in the melody's piano-driven gospel thump. The guy knows his Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke, as well as his Paul Young, Terence Trent D'Arby and Prince. Especially Prince.

But Lidell comes to his infectious soul music from afar. He started in the British electronic scene, working with Cristian Vogel in Super_Collider to mix warped and squelchy beats with buried but funky bits of melody. So, 2005's straight-up soul record,

Multiply

, came as a surprise, and this year's

Jim

is even better: looser and brighter, with sturdier songs and a more natural - read nonelectronic - sound. "Wait for Me" and "Little Bit of Feel Good" turned the often-staid World Cafe Live into an old-school dance party.

Lidell hasn't rejected his past, however. His 75-minute set included 15 minutes of Lidell beat-boxing, knob-twiddling and looping, and distorting his vocals as he toyed with "You Got Me Up" and "A Little Bit More." And like Beck, with whom he has toured, Lidell blurs the line between ironic imitation and legit emotion. His four-piece band featured a baritone sax player in a red kimono and knee-high hosiery, a guitar player in a white '70s jumpsuit, and a backdrop that merged a live mix of video of the band, black-and-white clips of vintage industrial scenes, and close-ups of psychedelic-patterned plates rotating on turntables.

For the encore, Lidell wore, like a space helmet, a television topped with a turntable and a spinning set of mirrors. But he was singing the ballad "Game for Fools" with understated emotion. It was a super collision of silliness and sincerity.