Patrick Wolf has always had a touch of the Roman about him. At its best, his music contains a sense of majesty and affirmation scarcely found by any of his contemporaries, while the man himself remains the prince-in-waiting – always on the cusp of something bigger and certainly dressed for the occasion. Which is why seeing him live did nothing to change our opinion of him. We're big fans of anyone whose second of three costume changes for the night involves a black raven cape with matching headpiece and a monochrome Union Jack jumpsuit, likewise anyone whose live set up includes a laptop and a lap-mounted string instrument known as an 'Appalachian dulcimer'. But the forays into glam-pop that have resulted from his last two albums don't seem to make good on the promise of his incredible sophomore effort, Wind in the Wires.