THOUGH a Mark Knopfler solo show has to deal extensively with his role as leader of Dire Straits, it soon becomes apparent why he has decided to

pursue a solo career, despite it being, in most respects, a technicality. The final, stadium-packing incarnation of Dire Straits was Knoplfler and a number of hired hands, some of whom remain in his band.

There is also considerable overlap in content with the tour which accompanied the final Dire Straits' album, On Every Street, but gone is the bluster, the power and pomposity. This compares favourably if only for its intimacy and restrained tastefulness, qualities which were not abundant at the end of the band's lifespan.

The set is split about equally between Dire Straits' songs and selections from Knopfler's second solo album, Sailing to Philadelphia. It is surprisingly easy to see the stylistic connection between early compositions like Romeo and Juliet and, for example, last year's Speedway At Nazareth or Prairie Wedding. It is considered, narrative songwriting as a platform for some adept guitar-playing.

However, the great failings of Dire Straits still run as fault lines through Knopfler's solo work. There is an abject lack of passion: even Sultans of Swing - still his best song - now seems less like a manifesto, more a blurred third-party observation.

At best, Knopfler is an uneasy communicator, and the outcome is a feeling of emptiness and uncertainty about both his music and introductions. It may be possible to like this, but it is hard, for all its apparent perfection, to imagine anyone being genuinely moved by it.

The nature of both performers and response is highlighted when one isolated person in the stalls dares to stand up during the rendition of Money for Nothing. It is a tellingly lukewarm response to a worthy but soulless performance.