Christopher Cross hit the Bristol Beacon stage with All Right and proved – in about eight seconds flat – that the velvet‑voiced father of yacht rock is still sailing smoother than half the acts who weren’t even born when his debut album won five Grammys.

Turning 74 next month, he strolled on with self‑effacing humour, quoting Keith Richards on the joys of still being here as the crowd was handed a time machine back to 1980. It set the tone for a set that was both vibrant and reflective, a reminder that this velvet‑voiced troubadour has lived nine lives and still sounds unmistakably intact.

Cross looked fantastic and he sounded even better. No backing tracks, no tricks, just that unmistakably intact voice and a band so tight they could have been carved from polished chrome.

The flamingo backdrop glowed, the three shimmering vocalists in fluorescent magenta dresses shimmered even harder, and Cross picked up a lilac‑coloured guitar like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Backed by pianist Jerry Léonide, multi‑instrumentalist Andy Suzuki, bassist Kevin Reveyrand and drummer Francis Arnaud, Cross led a tight group of musicians who kept true to his craft, sleek, controlled playing and a band that felt like a well‑oiled machine with three vocalists, Jewelee Peters, Lisbet Guldbaek, and Julia Sarr, resplendent in matching shocking-pink outfits.

Never Be the Same with smooth, worry‑free melodies reminding everyone why his songs feel like summer.

For some, Cross represents a moment in time but tonight he showed the world didn’t stop there. This wasn’t a museum piece. This was a man with over 10 million albums sold, an Oscar, a Golden Globe, an Emmy nomination and five Top 10 singles, and he played like he still had something to prove.

Then came I Really Don’t Know Anymore, heavier than the record, with altered metre and edgier guitars. Andy Suzuki’s futuristic wind instrument added a modern twist, while the background singers filled in the Michael McDonald crooning with a soulful tone.

Cross’ guitar work, sleek, controlled, criminally underrated, cut through with purpose. Hard to believe this is the same man who once thrashed away at a Flying V covering Deep Purple through Marshall stacks.

Poor Shirley, Minstrel Gigolo and Dreamers showed the depth of his catalogue. Cross was warm, humble, genuinely thankful to be playing again after a serious bout of Covid that stymied a planned 40th anniversary tour. His voice soared effortlessly, hitting high notes with precision and emotion.

Then came the shimmering heart of the night: Spinning and Sailing. The latter opened with a lovely piano intro, drifting across the room like a warm breeze as he transported the crowd into a mellow, sun‑soaked world, performing Sailing with such grace it felt like drifting on water.

Think of Laura was tender, rumours of vocal deterioration proving exaggerated. Back of My Mind, Simple and The Light Is On followed, the latter bouncing along with such breezy brightness you’d think writing a chorus that catchy was easy.

Suzuki’s saxophone added a jazzy hue, giving the arrangements a fresh, invigorated edge.

Cross introduced Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do), saying he was fortunate enough to work with one of the best songwriters of all time – Burt Bacharach – and delivered a gorgeous, version of Arthur’s Theme, the saxophonist stepping into the spotlight.

No Time for Talk and Say You’ll Be Mine kept the energy high, the trio of singers adding soulful background harmonies that lifted the arrangements. Cross’ performance was calculated, purposeful, a masterclass in musicality. Reserved, yes, but always controlled, always precise.

And then came the big one. The Beacon knew it. Cross knew it. Ride Like the Wind with no Michael McDonald, so the audience would need to fill in and they obliged. 

The band rocked hard, Cross riffing and soloing. It was raucous, and exhilarating with the singers joining up with him front stage.

The night was a reminder of his potency: melodic pop rock delivered with craftsmanship of the utmost calibre. It was a rediscovery of a previously underrated troubadour whose songs have proved timeless, with a man who still looks fantastic, sounds even better, and remains, most assuredly, the father of yacht rock.