It happened with Robbie Williams and ‘Angels’, with Wheatus and ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ as well. Occasionally, artist and song fit together so seamlessly that they are welded into a single entity in the public consciousness, incapable of separation by even the most sophisticated surgical procedure.

Tonight, Nanci Griffith works hard to leave behind the stellar success of Julie Gold’s ‘From A Distance’. Once the song defined her, with it’s easy emotional platitudes, unswerving moral tone and strong grasp of the universal. But in the past few years, as Nanci has struggled to be perceived as a talented songwriter in her own right and not just a walking, warbling vocal range, it’s become a noose around her neck.

Reacting frostily to front-row hecklers who demand to hear old favourites, it is only when Griffith draws from her latest album, Clock Without Hands, that this headstrong individual with an acute social conscience breaks through the faux-naivite of the ultra-girlish voice to tremendous effect. And so we have ‘Pearl’s Eye View’, a tribute to Vietnam photographer Georgette Chapelle that signals Griffith’s superlative ability to spin a yarn – the hallmark of the most perennial country-folk players. ‘Shaking Out The Snow’ sees Griffith surrender the guitar and gesticulate along to this story of brotherly betrayal like a slightly crazy, over-eager art teacher.

With the Blue Moon Orchestra providing a solid backdrop, Griffith moves from relating her battle with cancer to empathising with the plight of women in Afghanistan who are “choking under a regime”. As adept at deliberating over world events as she is at articulating her personal struggle, one of the highlights tonight is John Stewart’s ‘Armstrong’ which sees Griffith locate a sense of personal wonder and awe in the first moonwalk.

When making a tribute to Bill Weems, the Blue Moon Orchestra player/producer who was on the second plane that crashed into the World Trade Center on September 11th, Griffith does not dwell on the band’s personal sense of loss, but pays respect to, “Every individual out of the 6,000 who were killed on that day.”

No longer a coy country-folk damsel but a survivor with a steely attitude to life.

Even from a distance, this performance has finally brought Nanci Griffith into sharper focus.