Last Sunday was a treat for fans of the old school here in Sydney, as the one and only Roy Ayers headlined a concert at the intimate jazz club The Basement. The gig, part of a national tour coinciding with Ayers’ dates opening for Kool & The Gang, was the first time I’d seen the legendary band leader, vibraphonist and singer since a guest appearance with NuYorican Soul in New York in 1997.

How do you describe Roy Ayers’ music to someone who’s not sure who he is? Is it jazz? Soul? Funk, R&B, disco? In fact he’s done all of that in a storied recording career stretching back to the early ‘60s, mapping the possibilities of modern forms like fusion, garage and acid jazz. And he’s been recognised for his pioneering efforts by younger generations: sampled by A Tribe Called Quest, Brand Nubian and many others; collaborating with Fela, Masters At Work and Kerri Chandler. So you’ve probably heard his stuff whether you know it or not. And it would be hard to have missed his supreme classics Everybody Loves the Sunshine, Running Away and We Live in Brooklyn, Baby.

It was no doubt the classics that the packed house at The Basement came to hear, but they would also have been aware of Ayers’ reputation as a charismatic bandleader. It was this facet that was mostly on display, as he was backed by a quintet of younger guys, virtuoso hired guns who whipped up some hot soul-tinged jazz while Ayers – now 70 years old – played his trademark vibes and played it cool on the mic. He sometimes sang, sometimes talked, sometimes just kept an eye on things. Man, can he hit those vibes. And he’s no purist, either, sometimes working with a digitally-induced electric guitar sound, hammering out solos like a rock star.

It was great to see Ayers onstage at his age, fully in charge of the sweltering club, scatting his way through a funky comedy skit with his saxophonist. He reminded me of an old big-band leader – especially Lionel Hampton, the jazz-vibraphone originator and Ayers’ spiritual forebear. Then again he showed his soul-superstar side, crooning with the best of them, softly telling us in his famous grainy voice that he could feel the love in the room. I got the feeling the sexy R&B-style jam Baby, You Got It was not merely metaphorical – Roy still has what it takes to put the moves on.

His career spans all of these modes, defining a transition era in modern music. And it was great to be a Yank (who used to live in Brooklyn, baby) in a roomful of Aussies who were so appreciative of this American icon. When he changed the lyrics of his classic and sang, “We live in Sydney, baby / We’re gonna make it baby” to the delight of the crowd, it was easy to feel the unity and brotherhood promised in the best soul music made real for a moment.

Nevertheless I had issues with the show. I didn’t love the sound of the band. Typical problem when an older soul or jazz legend tours with a younger band: what was fresh and distinctive back in the day is subsumed into something that sounds disappointingly generic – like it belongs on a TV talk show. Even worse, Ayers would leave everything up to them for long stretches; at one point, he was offstage or barely involved for nearly 30 minutes while the quintet went through individual solos, followed by a medley sung by another band member. The band was tight and super-talented, but it definitely wasn’t Roy Ayers, and after a while it was just boring.

And it would have been hard for any band to match the atmosphere of those classics. We Live in Brooklyn, Baby was well played, with heaps of funk, and it got the crowd moving – but I missed the crazy arrangement that makes the 1971 version so unforgettable and often-sampled. Ayers also left out the non-sequitur lyric, “Days have passed, and all the queen bees’ drones are dying” – as if that would have been too weird for the occasion. Running Away’s popping up-tempo swing sounded great, but I found myself craving the funky Latin percussion and fiery backing vocals of the original. In some ways it sounded like a band doing a cover of a Roy Ayers classic, with Roy as a guest.

Do I sound picky? Ayers has established a high standard during a career that is still going. He’s kept with the times, constantly proving he’s hip to modern sounds, so I was hoping for more than what was basically a revue of his old hits with a band that had chops but no originality.

His stage presence and voice are unquestionably real and righteous – and when he was front and centre, it was a seriously great show – but the night overall was a mix of the predictable and the essential.