A soul diva knows how to make an entrance. As Chaka Khan waltzes on stage, her big hair aflame under the red lights, she is certainly impressive. But she shatters the illusion. "Cor blimey," she says, as something clatters behind her. "What's that?" With her big hoop earrings and scary black-lace leggings, she is less the R&B lady and more the Pat Butcher of funk.

Having found club fame in the 1970s with Rufus, Khan has few pretensions. She built her reputation on belting out anthemic songs that celebrated womanhood, without ever straying into feminism. She teases and tosses her wild locks girlishly, enjoying her sexuality without diminishing any of her control.

Khan's collaborations with Prince gave her success and credibility, but she is old-school showbiz. She chats easily, asking for audience participation from the girls in the crowd. "Sing sexy and strong," she urges, then says, smiling: "Sexy and strong - what a concept."

Khan was a backing singer with Motown's Mary Wells in the 1960s and she knows about flair. Her own three singers slink towards their mikes dressed in subdued, tight black dresses. As Khan sings the Beatles' We Can Work It Out, their hands mark out the bassline before they shuffle and wiggle in sync.

But the night belongs to Khan. Her voice could break your heart - or break glass - and she is versatile enough to scat to jazz rhythms and swoon over soul. Although her full-throttle approach can be a little screechy, she is sublime, backed only by lead guitar, on Stevie Wonder's Until You Come Back To Me (That's What I'm Gonna Do), and she rolls her notes and her hips to funky Tell Me Something Good. Fleetwood Mac's Everything sees her rootsy and playful, but it is I'm Every Woman that sets the night alight. The first notes have everyone dancing, and Ain't Nobody continues the party atmosphere, though with a guest appearance from Mica Paris it dwindles into a duel to see who has the biggest voice. Khan leaves the stage triumphant, naturally.