So it was that I found myself descending the stairs of La Zorra jazz club in the Vedado district of Havana earlier this year to hear a local pianist who had been recommended by a couple of jazz musicians I had met earlier in the day. I will be eternally grateful, because the concert they sent me to was the musical highlight of a memorable trip and my first taste of a pianist who, in the space of a year, has become "the next big thing", not only in Cuban music but perhaps in world jazz.

It was certainly a privilege to hear pianist Roberto Fonseca for the first time in his natural habitat, without the surrounding hubub of promotional material. It is rare nowadays for music to come to us undescribed in some way. There's so much written in the press (ahem), or said on the radio, or hyped in advertisements, that by the time we sit down at a concert, we already have our heads full of the opinions of others, who may or may not be people of discernment like your correspondent. But as I took my seat at La Zorra and tucked into my first mojito, I had no clear idea what I was about to hear.

The club was small and dark . . . no surprises there . . . and the stage was dimly lit. Through the gloom, I could see that whoever this pianist was, he was going to be playing an electric piano that looked like it was about 10 years old. Also on stage were a battered looking drum kit, a set of congas, a bass amp and a microphone stand for a saxophone player. But for the smouldering Monte Cristo in my hand, it could have been JJ Smyths on a Monday night. What ensued would have exceeded my expectations if I had had any.

Fonseca and his band charged into a high energy set that, while unmistakably Cuban, was as fresh and international as any music I have ever heard and my smile was broad. Much has been made of his stints backing Buena Vista Social Club stars, and his evident regard for pianist Ruben Gonzalez, but Fonseca is no copyist. Like all good jazz musicians, he has taken his rich Cuban heritage and blended it with a variety of outside influences, and to these ears, Fonsecca's approach owes as much to Keith Jarrett's American quartet as it does to anything Afro-Cuban.

Fonseca himself is a shy and, according to the women I was with that night, utterly adorable young man, who mumbled the names of his fellow musicians very quietly into the microphone twice during the night, and apart from that restricted himself to singing along with his own tunes. His soloing was not unlike the mojitas, which flowed as the night went on . . . an intoxicating blend of sweet, pungent melodies and bravura technique.

On tour at the moment promoting Zamazu, his latest recording on the prestigious Enja label (see review), he arrives in Ireland later this month with his own band to play concerts in Cork (Opera House, 12 Nov) and Dublin (Sugar Club, 14 Nov). The Dublin concert will be preceded by a public interview which is a great opportunity to hear a musician describe himself and his music without all the hype. The only question now is, can the Sugar Club do a decent mojito?