For all that Mansfield has awakened me to the glories of Piaf, I still incline more towards the cynical romanticism of Jacques Brel. Philip Jeays, performing at the Cafe Royal (venue 47), neither impersonates Brel nor performs a tribute to him; he simply wants to be the man's musical heir. To all intents and purposes, he succeeds. Still Playing The Fool is an hour of Jeays' own songs, delivered with a sometimes frightening intensity and an often gleeful amount of bile. The height and depths of love and loss (more often the latter), the black frustrations of failure, the defiant settling of old scores, the dark impulse to stab one's best friend in order to seize his car, house and wife (in the self-parodically Brel-titled "Geoff") ... Jeays covers the whole waterfront quite delightfully, looking more than a little like the David Bowie of 30 years ago and fixing his gaze above our heads in a transport of emotion. One of the less widely know gems of the fringe.