It seems unlikely that the Ministry of Sound or Cream will be troubled by Jarvis Cocker's latest venture into clubbing, Desperate. Cocker's search for "interesting" venues for his club night has brought him, and us, to the Pentonville Prison officers' social club. Its decor and location are phenomenally dispiriting. It lies within the prison walls, peeling and striplit. The crowd of east London trendies is the only indication that you are not in pre-glasnost Albania. Completing the picture of desolation, Opus's mid-1980s Europop hit Life Is Life crackles jauntily through tinny speakers. This is less a club night than an example of irony gone mad.
What tonight's special guest makes of the venue remains a mystery. A white New York rapper touted as the "female Eminem", Concetta "Princess Superstar" Kirschner appears to think she's performing in the prison itself. "I feel like the hip-hop Johnny Cash," she simpers, understandably confused by the grimness around her.
Nevertheless, she's a trouper, switching costumes between songs - a New York policeman's outfit, a Union Jack bikini - and offering a "shout out" to the prime minister, "my man Tony B". It's unapologetic and unironic, cheeringly at odds with the arch audience. They seem unsure about how to respond to Kirschner's cheerleading: how do all the ladies in the house scream in a knowing way?
Kirschner's lyrics are sharp, and obsessed with grubby sexual parody. I Love You (Or At Least I Like You) mocks hip-hop's preoccupation with prostitution, casting her as a female pimp surrounded by whining men. Her best tracks, Bad Babysitter and Keith'n'Me, match bouncing pop choruses to gleefully filthy lyrics.
For the first 15 minutes, Kirschner's subversive wit and on-stage presence threaten to transcend her surroundings, but the venue's deathly atmosphere gradually infects the show. The costume changes cease, the tempos drop to a crawl and Kirschner herself runs out of puff. She stands still in the centre of the stage, rapping with her eyes closed as the audience drift to the bar. Even for Princess Superstar, it seems, there's no escape from the harsh reality of Pentonville.
