Bobby Womack: Testament of a preacher man

FOR ANYBODY remotely interested in black music, past and present; in the continuity between the halcyon days of rhythm and blues and church music and the slick polish of contemporary soul; interested in catharsis of the spirit and the sacred, ritualistic significance of the sanctified scream, allied to the best traditions of showbusiness elan —in fact, just about everything you could possibly wish for — Bobby Womack's current round of performances at the Hammersmith Odeon (which finish Sunday) provides a rare treat.