CLIFF Richard may have broken records spanning the decades but even the Peter Pan of Pop can’t match the pull of one of his contemporaries these days.

Tom Jones sold out the Henley Festival within days of him being signed up proving that, even at 71, the Welsh wizard can still charm the birds from the trees when it comes to being a crowd pleaser.

And last night's assembled throng in their posh frocks and penguin suits — the dress code for this champagne-fuelled celebration by the river — were no different to any other crowd Tom had played from Llanelli to Las Vegas.

The ladies screamed and the gents roared their approval as Tom took the stage wearing a smart plum-coloured suit and a huge grin.

And it was straight into material from his new album, Praise and Blame, a major departure from his usual repertoire of ballads and pop re-interpretations.

Opening with Burning Hell and Run On, Tom showed that his new direction was a little more serious, a little more about the quality of the music than the showmanship.

He explained how he had sang gospel with Elvis after shows in Vegas and promised the King that he would one day record them.

The tracks were interesting enough but a little low key and serious for this particular audience’s limited attention span.

Eventually they lost patience, and a chorus of Delilah came surging from the back of the ranks massed in front of the floating stage. Just in time, the band struck the first few chords and Tom caught up with a belting version of his classic.

And they came thick and fast after that — Green, Green Grass of Home, Leave Your Hat On and Mama Told Me Not To Come were all rolled out and with a little chat in between each one. It is clear that he enjoys singing them as much now despite some having originally been recorded more than 40 years ago.

He even delighted fans by telling them how he loved Henley, with family in the area, and how he visited the Flower Pot pub in nearby Aston after his “power walk” exercise regime.

It all ended with his cover of the Prince classic Kiss complete with the immortal line “I think I’d better dance now.”

But there was no Sex Bomb or What’s Up Pussycat, two of his raunchiest classics and he seemed unwilling to bump, grind and jive for the ladies, despite the predictable shower of knickers.

Maybe he’s too old or maybe he’s gone all Bob Dylan and found God.

Yet, even if either of those assumptions are true, Tom Jones is still a top act, the voice retains all its power and, above all, he remains one of music’s great entertainers.