Party in the Park, the capital's annual pop roundabout, is an event that reminds you of the importance of a three-minute pop song.

Thanks to continual radio rotation the 100,000-strong crowd are word perfect and the prospect of seeing in the flesh those flawless features normally restricted to glossy videos, lends the atmosphere a palpable fizz.

The mums love Ricky Martin's brand of Latino pop and lap up his hip-swivelling, but the kids save their screams and sighs for the strangely garbed Usher, whose baggy trousers provocatively threaten to fall while his open shirt flaps in the breeze to the R&B rhythm.

But it's the arrival of Craig David that sends pulses soaring. He's just flown in from America and in appearance and sound the US influence is clear. Sporting a braided hairstyle and a deeply uncool red leather jacket with Mickey Mouse embroidered on the back, David is intent on making today his own. Throwing his arms around wildly, he peppers his sound with Americanisms, from the appropriation of a Missy Elliott sample to shouts of "Check it!".

David, like the majority of acts today, sings live, which may follow criticism levelled at the event in previous years, but also testifies to the high standard of performers. Destiny's Child light up the stage not just with their pyrotechnics and glittery, fringed pink outfits but with voices so strong they barely need mikes. Beyoncé Knowles works the stage with strident, butt-shaking moves, whereas fellow pop princesses Atomic Kitten act coquettish and the Sugababes seem terrified but sweet.

Geri Halliwell is attention-grabbing but doesn't fare so well. Wearing a tiny vest and even tinier black knickers, she's less a sex symbol than a little girl off to ballet class, her 50 dancers and lavish Fame-style set doing little to maintain the attention of the bored crowd. "I love each and everyone one of you," she cries. "And I bet you're happy about that, aren't you?"

Ironically, she could learn a lot from Emma Bunton, whose bubbly confidence turns Zoë's Sunshine on a Rainy Day from 1990s rave relic into sunny celebration. But it takes the pimp style and Vegas sound of Tom Jones to create a magic moment as bras fly into the air and knickers are shaken vigorously to It's Not Unusual, both parents and children bouncing together.