Gig played on 21/02/07

From the moment Madonna lost her tangled "Like A Virgin" tresses for the short blonde look of "True Blue", re-invention has practically become a job requirement for any female pop star. Some pull it off with ease, whether Madonna morphing from spontaneous sex vixen to mean-minded lady of the manor or Pink shunning bland R&B for the startling (and much more honest) confessionals of "Missundaztood". Others fail, such as whenever Kylie Minogue tries to be something other than the nation's favourite plastic princess.

Nelly Furtado falls somewhere between the two. Her attempt to move from the quirky folksiness of "Whoa, Nelly" to a deeper and more complex sound on "Folklore" was actually rather remarkable, although record buyers disagreed. Thus the rapid volte face of "Loose", an album which saw Furtado suddenly embrace the pop disposability she had once disdained. In sales terms, it was a rampantly successful move, so why is tonight's performance so awkward and forced?

Possibly because Furtado's heart isn't really in it, something her many interviews about pop being "a job" rather confirm. Tonight she dances manically and throws the right moves, but there's a slight air of desperation about the proceedings, not helped by a helplessly derivative show that seems to have been thrown together in about ten minutes. Or, in the case of the choreography, two minutes, since Furtado seems to have employed the exact same circus troupe that Madonna, Pink, Kylie and Beyonce wheeled-out to liven up their own shows and who look thoroughly bored with the whole endeavour.

The majority of the set is tedious, including a hapless version of Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (surely a song that nobody in the entire world wants to hear again, covered or not), a rather listless run through the once gorgeous "I'm Like A Bird" and the atrocious tinniness of her Euro 2004 hit "Forca". And any pace or energy is broken up by stilted intermissions while Furtado (unimaginatively) changes costumes. There are three exceptions.

One is, of course, encore "Maneater", which may be cynically commercial but comes with a chorus so big it makes such concerns irrelevant, and has the crowd hectically dancing for the first time. One is the sweet, minor key ballad "Try", which shows off Furtado's sweet, fragile vocals beautifully. And one is "Say What You Like", her best song and tonight a wall of gently building noise that sees Nelly for the first time seem to really lose herself in the moment.

But these are slim pickings from an overlong show. Perhaps she should re-invent herself again, as a charismatic and committed live performer. No, perhaps that would be too much of a stretch.

by Jaime Gill