Steven Hallmark

THIS gig was very much one for the girls.

There were ladies of the night, ladies in comfortable shoes, ladies who lunch and even a lady and the tramp.

Strangely there was also a six-foot-tall cockney skinhead tearfully mouthing every lyric - but it takes all sorts.

Having not really spent a lot of time listening to Miss Morrisette since, what I regarded as, her peak 10 years ago I was more than pleasantly surprised with how much she has grown as an artist.

If you compare her voice on Jagged Little Pill to the power she has now it sounds like two different people.

And, more surprisingly to me at least, she rocks.

It was not some whining woman sneering out some dreary ballads it was a rock 'n' roll show that was among the best I have seen in recent years.

This was a powerful and passionate performance and a capacity crowd was rapt throughout.

Gabriel Mann (Los Angeles' answer to Toploader) provided excellent support and I will even forgive him the heinous crime of covering a Phil Collins song.

Phil Collins does not rock.

Neither does the Carling Apollo for charging a fortune for a can of beer (you would have thought they could get them quite cheap) and for selling merchandise at a place specifically designed to block the stairs and door delaying your exit by 20 minutes.