Gig review: Richard Marx

DESPITE a formidable run of hits in the late 80s and early 90s, Richard Marx jokes (through gritted teeth probably) that his songs are often confused with those of another gravelly MOR rock balladeer. For Marx, a self-confessed peddler of "wimpy, pussy ballads", truly is the fresh-faced Bryan Adams – so fresh of face that he barely looked old enough to be nostalgic for the past love affair of opening number Endless Summer Nights, yet seasoned enough to forget that this was not his first visit to Scotland.

For the past decade, Marx has plied his trade as a songwriter-for-hire for the likes of Luther Vandross and NSync, and this two-hour Stories To Tell show testified to his formulaic efficiency in that respect, oscillating mildly between bleeding heart ballads and anaemic rootsy rockers delivered solo on acoustic guitar or accompanied by Steve Hornby on piano and backing vocals – plus, on one occasion, by pre-recorded footage of his three sons ("the Marx brothers").

Marx is also practised in the art of ingratiating self-deprecation and protracted anecdote on the gestation of songs such as Hazard, his hit snapshot of a smalltown tragedy. The audience appeared to hang on his every utterance and yet his polished presentation lacked intimacy until the simple no-fuss singalong of Should've Known Better and the encore of Right Here Waiting, the biggest wimpy, pussy ballad of the lot.