On March 6, days after his 35th birthday, Juno award winner Hawksley Workman electrified the Alix Goolden Hall with his formidable stage presence.

Unconventional in every sense, the concert lacked an opening act — not that any of the 800 or so attendees seated in the venue’s wooden pews needed to be warmed up for Workman’s unique brand of glam rock.

Kicking off the two-and-a-half-hour show was multi-talented keyboardist Todd Lumley, aka Mr. Lonely. His instrumental medley of well-loved Workman songs exploded into a set heavily laden with material from Workman’s two newly released albums, Milk and Meat.

Throughout the set, Workman’s demeanor seemed to overflow with sincerity. Small flaws and false starts were comfortably laughed off as one song bled into the next. At one point, the artist started to play and then, realizing he had played a note from the wrong song, laughed, saying “I don’t write these songs. I wish I did. They’re fantastic.”

The typically flamboyant musician was unusually understated at times, even stopping a song mid-intro to remind himself how great it felt to be right where he was, in Victoria. Between songs, Workman tended to mumble, his nerves showing as he fluttered from topic to topic, touching on everything from how he judges large cities by how comfortably he can tour them by bicycle, to being detained by RCMP for wearing a scarf, and his relationship with two wild birds in his yard whom he has affectionately coined “Greedy Gus” and “Timid Jim.”

Cracks were definitely showing in the frontman’s overall performance during the March 6 show, but even the rambling dysfunction had its charm. At one point, a bellowed request to play “Paper Shoes” was met with the playful retort, “they’re no good in the rain,” before breaking into the electro-pop tune, “Snow Angel.”

The audience laughed with Workman as he fumbled through incoherent trains of thought. Meandering story lines became endearing anecdotes as soon as he opened up and broke into a song such as

“Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off.” Within the first few notes, it was evident that hearts stopped in every pew.

Following a violin solo from Vancouverite, Jesse Zibot, the second half of the show saw Workman framed in rainbow spotlights. Over the break, he traded his blazer in for something a little more visually interesting, channeling Elton John in a toque, white Wayfarers and a bedazzled janitor-esque onesie. Before the audience had time to adjust to his new appearance, Workman launched into an arena rock rendition of “Robot Heart.”

Like his demeanor and appearance, one indisputable fact about Workman’s music is that it is unique. This singer/songwriter/producer — who, among other talents, plays guitar and drums — tiptoes through some genres and kicks the door open to others, but always maintains a sound that is both accessible and distinctly his.

Instead of vying for space in an ever-expanding indie rock scene, Workman’s live show continues to cement his nonpareil mark on Canadian music with spirited songs such as “[The Happiest Day I Know is a] Tokyo Bicycle,” and “Baby Mosquito,” contrasted against emotionally raw ballads like “Devastating,” and “The Ground We Stand On.”

During the March 6 set, audience members bopped along to the newer songs, which seem to recount the world as Worksman sees it, and swayed to his classic tracks, which tend to reflect difficult emotions. Worksman interacted fluidly with his band, smiling and talking with them, especially Mr. Lonely. The entire show was a bit like sitting in on an intimate jam session.

The highlight of the evening came in the form of a single-song encore which was worth the price of admission alone. Those who had been bright enough to stay on their feet, coaxing the band back to the stage, were treated to a rousing rendition of “Smoke Baby” that had people dancing, clapping and singing in the aisles.