Dressed in just her underwear and the sort of startlingly brief wrap a girl might throw on in a 1970s sitcom when the postman has something for her and she�s just stepped out of the shower, Miss Beverley Knight looks, as the young people say, well fit.

Dressed in just her underwear and the sort of startlingly brief wrap a girl might throw on in a 1970s sitcom when the postman has something for her and she's just stepped out of the shower, Miss Beverley Knight looks, as the young people say, well fit. Which she would need to be, to provide an hour and three-quarters of knock-'em-dead soul revue. Which is what she does.

Even without the luxury support package of David Jordan and unsigned self-styled phunk-rockers Cherry BlackStone, this would be a gift of a show. Knight explodes out of the wings with the sort of energy her younger competitors should envy (she's 34) and maintains that pitch of performance all the way through to a sensational high-kicking cover of Nirvana's Come As You Are 90 minutes later and on to generous encores beyond. Her voice is huge, her range is astonishing - and technically she is in a class of her own. Expression is one thing, but Knight's pitch is flawless all night, and that is much more unusual. A superb four-piece band and three excellent backing vocalists are tight with her every step.

The canard that she doesn't have the material is nonsense. She deftly mixes in classics such as Dusty's Take Another Little Piece of My Heart and Irma Thomas's Time Is on My Side (in a great arrangement stripped back to organ and percussion), and her own Shoulda Woulda Coulda, Queen of Starting Over and excellent Saviour (co-written with Guy Chambers) are far from found wanting. Even the audience-singalong bit was slick. Hell, Miss Knight insists upon it.