It’s a world away from media-infested London, and he is visibly disappointed at the turnout He gives it his best shot anyway. This weekday Watford gig provides a telling picture of the hard graft that Sway will have to put in to give substance to the press’s casual claims, and his own dreams.
Tacky St Valentine Day signs droop from the ceiling of this cavernous club, and desultory dancing from the teenage crowd of 100 or so precedes Sway’s entrance, at past 1am. But the acres of media attention this has drawn, as if he is already British rap’s new messiah, brings problems of its own. His debut proper, This is My Demo, released this week, is entirely independent, too, in both the label and the spiritual sense.

Sway (real name, Derek Safo) refutes every rap clich?yrically, coolly criticising materialism and macho attitudes. Vulnerable, level-headed and sharply humorous, proud and satirical of both his British and African heritages (his mother is Ghanaian), his is a fresh, questing voice. Aged 23, and having grown up in grinding circumstances on a north-London council estate, he has refused all major-label blandishments, instead making his name with two self-released mixtape CDs, 10,000 of which sold, and securing the Mobo for best hip-hop act from under the nose of 50 Cent. The attempts of one misguided punter to sing along – his attempt consisting of a “yah yah aaaarrrrr” wail – was truly painful.The idiosyncratic Clap Your Hands Say Yeah are always likely to inspire a strong reaction, but when it comes to singalongs, let’s leave it to Robbie Williams..

Sway’s rise to the top rank of UK hip-hop has, in its own way, been as remarkable as the Arctic Monkeys’ ascent. So it was no surprise when the following number – and the most affecting song on the night – was a cover of a Dylan tune, the beautiful “Love Minus Zero/No Limit”.”Home on Ice”, reminiscent of mid-period Cure, followed. Ounsworth, strumming his guitar and alternatively blowing into his harp and singing in his cracked voice, conjured up the image of the young Bob Dylan. If audience enthusiasm and yelled song requests seemed in short supply, perhaps it was because many of the songs, as wordily obscure as their titles suggest, lack immediacy.Nevertheless, “Details of the War”, one of the flatter songs on the album, works better live, building intensity via the Velvets-like droning guitars and folky harmonica playing.